Possible Perspective
by SirSpangler
Summary: When Thrawn and his exploration fleet find hints of a system hidden by the powerful Rakatan Empire eons ago, they enter one of the most mysterious parts of the known galaxy. There they find a world that, if properly cultivated, could prove a powerful asset. After all, good and bad are just matters of prospective...
1. Chapter 1

_Hello fellow fanfic readers! Thank you for clicking on my story. I've wanted to do this crossover for a while now, but never had the guts to do so. Thankfully, that changes today! However, before we get started, there are a few things I must address._

 _Timeline-_

 _RWBY: middle of volume 2_

 _Star Wars: 14 BBY (in other words, 14 years before battle of Yavin)_

 _Knowledge of these universes will be helpful! If you don't know what RWBY is, it's a web series made by Rooster Teeth, and I recommend you go watch it immediately. Trust me, you won't regret it. As for Star Wars, knowledge of the extended universe (legends) is extremely recommended. While I'll try to make it casual-friendly, the simple fact is that many of the primary characters for the star wars side will be EU ones (Thrawn, Voss Parck, Gilad Pellaeon, etc)._

 _Lastly, some minor lore changes. At this time, Thrawn is laying the foundations for the Empire of the Hand, and as of such, he is in the unknown regions with his exploration fleet. In lore, the three primary imperial commanders of that fleet were Thrawn, Voss Parck, and Dagon Niriz, with only a single star destroyer in between them. However, my lack of knowledge about Niriz, and the fact that we never discovered his fate (his writer never finished his story), means that he won't be present in this story. In his place I've added Pellaeon. Additionally, instead of a single star destroyer, the fleet has three. Thrawn's been exploring the unknown regions for a while now, and I figured he'd have gotten some more support over time._

 _Now that that's out of the way, we can begin with the story! Enjoy!_

 _Oh, and if the characters didn't already make this obvious, we're using Legends star wars, not Disney canon._

* * *

 **Edge of newly discovered nebula, designated "Solum"**

 **Star Destroyer-** ** _Grey Wolf_**

 **Bridge**

No matter how many times he's experienced it; Voss Parck still couldn't help but be amazed by how quiet the bridge of a star destroyer could be. Compared to the rest of the 1,600 meter-long ship, at least. Through long years of service, he knew there were only two noise settings on such warships- either marginally quiet, or ridiculously loud. The most active areas were naturally the loudest, such as the hanger bays and engineering deck, while the more remote corridors and maintenance shafts could claim the opposite. However, even the most secluded and rarely used rooms still had some level of noise, the most common being the hum of the ship's massive engines. The bridge, on the other hand, was designed to permit **no** distractions for the command staff, and as a result was the most soundproof deck in the entire ship. Indeed, save for occasional beeping from various command consoles and the soft mummers of the crew, there was not a single sound to be heard.

Still, he wasn't here to admire the peace and quiet. Instead, he marched towards the two men standing in front of the bridge's viewport. Sliding up behind them, he offered a sharp salute.

"Sir, you called for me?"

Hearing his voice, the two men turned to him. The man on the right was Gilad Pellaeon, the most recent addition to their expedition to the unknown regions. Gilad was a fellow captain and one who was, in Parck's humble opinion, a damn good one. Rumor had it that there was not a more disciplined and orderly ship in the entire fleet (save from Lord Vader's Devastator) than the Chimaera, Pellaeon's personal star destroyer. And from what Parck could gather on the brief tour he got of the ship when they met, that reputation was not exaggerated.

Despite this, it was not Pellaeon who was the focus of Parck's attention. No, that honor belonged to the man on the left, who also happened to be the de-facto commander of the expedition.

This man was one Parck had known for several years now, and one he would gladly follow into the deepest pits of the nine Corellian hells.

Calm, cool, focused, and possessing an aura of shear strength, Grand Admiral Thrawn was an enigma to most of the known galaxy. However, _known_ was the key word. Here in the unknown regions, the Csillian-born Chiss was nothing short of a legend. After all, not just anyone can unite what is effectively a small empire in one of the most hostile areas in the galaxy, much less with nothing more than a few star destroyers and some softly spoken promises. His tall frame, broad shoulders, and collected voice only added to his already impressive image.

Turning, Thrawn's eyes raked over him, "At ease captain, I assume your presence indicates preparations are complete?"

Quickly adopting a more relaxed pose, Parck nodded.

"Yes sir, our probes have confirmed the presence of a viable hyperspace route into the nebula."

The slightest quirk of Thrawn's eyebrow was his response.

"You sound surprised captain."

Parck glanced away in slight guilt, "Apologies Admiral, I do not typically trust information gained from such a… _dubious_ source.

Thrawn merely nodded, "Nor do I, however my sources in the Chiss Ascendancy assured me of its validity. After all, the Rakatan Empire is known for many things, but deception is not one of them"

He glanced towards the viewport, and the nebula beyond.

"Unfortunately, Rakatten technology is difficult to deal with at the best of times. The computer the Ascendancy was deciphering was in poor shape to begin with, so the fact that they managed to extract any information at all before it's malfunctioning, and subsequent destruction, is impressive."

A few moments of silence stretched before them, as they each observed the glistening nebula.

Gazing into that endless icy blue expanse was humbling to Parck. A reminder that they were little more than blips in the eyes of the cosmos. That no matter how far they conquered, or how long they lived, they will never match the majesty, or the power of the universe itself.

After a few more moments of stargazing, Pellaeon cleared his throat,

"Sir, if I may, we still-"

Thrawn's smooth voice interrupted him, "Fret not, captain. The nebulas' not going anywhere."

Pellaeon glanced away in embarrassment.

With the barest hint of a smirk on his face, Thrawn turned to Parck.

"Any time you're ready captain."

With a slight nod, Parck reached into his uniform's pocket, pulling out a comlink.

"Ensign Burma, send package."

A female voice quickly responded, "Affirmative, transmitting now".

A second voice called out from the _Grey Wolf_ 's communication station.

"Received! And…," the man in question quickly tapped his control console, "…implemented! We're prepared to jump on your command Admiral."

Thrawn once again turned to the viewport.

"Very well, commence jump."

* * *

In the inky blackness of space, three dagger-shaped vessels seemingly hovered in place.

Suddenly, the three vessels turned, bearing their prows towards a softly swirling nebula. The massive ship's engines pulsed, then flared as enough energy to power cities was poured through them. The pulsing grew, until it shone with almost blinding intensity, then, for the briefest of moments, all three ships seemed to stretch beyond physical possibility. A moment more, and all the ships had vanished, the only sign of their passing a brief light in the distance, which in turn flared as well, before it too vanished.

All the while, the stars of various other systems twinkled innocently, their inhabitants ignorant of an event which may have very well of altered the fate of the galaxy.

* * *

Parck felt the engines hum, and sure enough, moments later the view of the beautiful nebula was replaced by the swirling blue of hyperspace.

"Time until our arrival?" Thrawn's voice echoed throughout the bridge.

The navigator answered swiftly, "Three minutes sir."

Thrawn nodded, "Very well. Parck, is there anything more we should know about this route?"

Parck glanced at his superior, and reached into his pocket. Retrieving a datapad, he responded, "Yes sir. This is actually the first of two jumps. We're currently heading to an area just beyond the heart of the nebula. This are apparently served as a sort of "checkpoint" for the Rakatans. From there it's a straight shot to a system in the heart of the nebula."

"Excellent. I shall be in my ready room should you require my presence."

With that, Thrawn turned and headed out of the bridge, leaving Parck and Pellaeon alone.

The two passed the time with small talk, namely their respective progress in securing territory for the Hand. Eventually, their easy discussion was interrupted by the navigator.

"Attention all hands, hyperspace exit in 10 seconds."

"Good, once we exit I want immediate scans of-"

Whatever Pellaeon was about to say was interrupted when the ship suddenly lurched forward, the rear of the ship tilting upwards as a dreadful howl filled the air, accompanied by a horrible _crack_.

The floor below Parck suddenly dropped, leaving him airborne. He only had a moment to realize his situation before he was reacquainted with the floor, and all when black.

* * *

He woke to a painful sound pounding in his head, and the echoes of voices in the distance.

As he stood up, blurrily looking around, a man sprinted to him. The man was shaking him, yelling something, though any noise he made still sounded like it was miles away. As his vision cleared, Parck looked around. He was inside a room, bathed with a red pulsing light, and filled with people running and shouting at eachother. In the center of the room, just a few meters infront of him was a man in a white uniform. Who was that man? He looked familiar. _Wait… no, he was-_

All at once his memories came flooding back to him. They were exiting hyperspace, but something apparently happened when they did so.

Quickly shoving away the crewman that had woken him, he stood up. Stumbling a little, he took a moment to get his bearings before heading over to Thrawn.

"Sir! Are you alright?"

Thrawn glanced at him. The Chiss mastermind was furious, his lips pressed into a thin line, and his red eyes glowed a little more than usual.

"Captain Parck, it is good that you are awake. I am unharmed, I was lucky enough to be sitting down during the time of the impact."

"What of Pellaeon?"

Thrawn frowned, "Med-bay, he sustained a concussion. The staff reports that he will recover shortly."

Taking a moment to run through the implications, Parck spoke again, "Sir, what happened?"

Thrawn grimaced, "The fleet ran into a hyperspace anomaly milliseconds before we were due to exit. Thankfully, we only scraped the edge, so our shields took the brunt of the damage."

"What of the rest of the fleet?"

"The _Chimaera_ was on our left, and therefore completely missed the anomaly. The _Admonitor_ however…"

He nodded towards the viewport.

Parck turned, and he heart caught in his throat.

There, in the sparkling twilight of space, the _Admonitor_ was drifting. Its armor was blackened and scorched, and hull breaches were scattered throughout its 1,600 meter-long frame. Many of which still had flames spewing out of them.

Parck stared in horror at his pride and joy, unbelieving.

Thrawn spoke up once again, "She'll live, if that's what you're worried about. Unfortunately, that the only good news. She has no shields, over half her weapons are slagged, and her hyperdrive is completely burnt out. She is, for all intents and purposes, useless."

Parck didn't take his eye from the scene.

"I… don't understand. This route is supposed to be safe. The probe made it through fine!"

Thrawn all but sneered, "Yes, the probe. A half-meter wide probe." He shook his head, "That's a bit smaller than three, kilometer and a half wide star destroyers."

Parck took a deep breath, before calming himself.

"So what now?"

"Now…" Thrawn began, " _You_ are going to go back to the _Admonitor_ to oversee emergency repairs. Then you will-"

Before he could finish, he was interrupted by the one of the bridge crew.

"Sir! We're not alone! There's something out there!"

Immediately dropping the previous conversation, Thrawn turned to the viewport.

"On screen!"

The viewport flickered before zooming in on small black dot in the distance. Once magnified, the dot was revealed to be some sort of station. Not just any station however. The spherical center and three angler prongs protruding from said sphere unmistakably marked it as a Rakatan station.

Thrawn's evidently came to the same conclusion. "Parck, you said the Rakatans used this area as a checkpoint?"

"Yes, sir."

Thrawn nodded, "Then this must be some sort of defensive platform. Sensors, details?"

"2,114 meters wide, 5,632 meters tall. Minimal power readings. Over 400 _possible_ weapon emplacements, however cannot verify due to the station's power levels."

There were several moments of silence as Thrawn digested this information.

"Very well. Parck, you have additional directives"

"Sir?"

"While the _Admonitor_ is undergoing repairs, your stormtroopers are to secure the station and download any data it has pertaining to this nebula. The rest of the fleet will continue on to whatever it is the Rakatans were so keen on hiding. Understood?"

"Yes sir!"

"Good, you are dismissed."

Offering a sharp salute, Parck turned and exited the bridge, now a lot more loud than when he first entered.

* * *

Once more in the inky blackness of space, two gleaming vessels hovered over their wounded comrade. Seconds later a small _Lambda_ -class shuttle exited the middle vessel, headed for the scarred one.

Upon its arrival, the unharmed ships repeated the process they had gone through just over five minutes ago.

Once again, a bright flash signaling their journey deeper into the nebula.

Once again, the stars twinkled innocently, giving no hint of the secrets ahead.

* * *

The blues of hyperspace dissipated into more natural colors as the _Grey Wolf_ and _Chimaera_ exited into real space.

"Sensors, report."

"System has a G-class star and five planetoids, of which two are in the green zone, though one appears to be a moon. There is a moderately dense asteroid field between the third and fourth planetoids. No signs of artificial structures or ships in orbit of any of the planets."

Thrawn contemplated the information for a bit. "Hmmm _,_ the planets in the green zone, you said one is a moon. What of the other? Does it support life?"

The sensors officer grimaced, "umm, _possibly_ sir. We're getting some strange readings from that planet. I won't be able to tell until we get closer."

Thrawn nodded in acceptance, "Very well. Helm, plot a course to the far side of the planet's moon. I want to know _exactly_ what's going on."

* * *

With the order given, the two ships massive engines began pushing the gargantuan 40,000,000 ton ships towards their destination, a slowly turning planet covered in greens, browns, and blues.

A planet orbited by a shattered moon.


	2. Chapter 2

_Time for a new chapter!_

 _Quick note- I want to get this out of the way before we get too far into the story and people start asking about it._

 _This story is focused on team RWBY, Ozpin (kinda), the imperials, and several other characters I won't reveal just yet (don't worry, they're not OCs)._

 _I know some people are going to be disappointed when I say this, but who the story_ _ **won't**_ _focus on is team JNPR. Yes, that includes Jaune._

 _The reason Jaune isn't going to be a main character (or even a side character) is because I have an admittedly irrational hatred of Jaune Arc, and I fear that if I include him in any significant manner my anger might leak onto the page. I've never liked reading unnecessary character bashing and I imagine most others don't either._

 _Maybe later on, when I'm a more experienced writer and can trust myself to rein in my personal opinions I might do something with him, but for now… yea. Jaune is not going to really be in this story. At most he's going to get a cameo. With literally thousands of other stories to choose from, surviving one without him shouldn't be too hard._

 _Now, if you're a star wars focused-fan and have absolutely no knowledge or interest in Jaune Arc (or just don't care either way) then please ignore the above and enjoy the chapter!_

* * *

 **Center of newly discovered nebula, designated "Solum"**

 **Unidentified system**

 **Star Destroyer-** _ **Grey Wolf**_

 **Bridge**

"Entering visual range now sir."

"Very well. Let us see what we're dealing with."

Even with a quick glance, the planet easily confirmed what their long-range sensors had shown them. It was a continental-class world, covered in greens, browns, and blues. The continents themselves were rather varied, both in shape and biomes.

After regarding the now revealed planet, Thrawn's gaze turned to the shattered moon.

' _How peculiar'_

"Tell me, is the state of the moon having any abnormal effects on the planet?"

The sensor officer looked down at his console, before frowning and shaking his head.

"It's difficult to tell sir, the readings are still all over the place. The planet's gravitational field appears to be relativity standard, just a bit lighter than we're used to. However, there are some areas where gravity appears to be _warped,_ for lack of better term. Likewise, the moon's not behaving at all like it's supposed to.

Thrawn raised an eyebrow, "How so?"

"It's too close. The moon should be barreling towards the planet as we speak, but it's not. Same thing with the chucks of the moon. They should have been pulled towards the planet the second they broke off from the moon. But they haven't been."

The officer shook his head in surrender.

"I don't get it. Despite all logic and scientific reasoning, the planet and its moon seem to be in a perfectly stable orbit."

While his distressed sensor officer attempted to rationalize the situation, Thrawn continued to regard the planet before him. While doing so however, something on the dark side of the planet (the side currently going through its night cycle) caught his eye. Lights. Not just any lights, lights from a city. Quickly widening his area of examination, he discovered multiple areas defined with artificial lights and cities.

Turning to the poor man, Thrawn interrupted his tirade.

"Lieutenant Rone, while I'm sure the gravitational anomalies are worthy of investigation- and rest assured they will be investigated- I am more interested in the presence of what appears to be a civilization on said planet. Please, focus."

With discipline reasserted, the lieutenant nodded before refocusing on his display.

"Apologies sir. As for the cities, yes, I am detecting a multitude of them scattered across the planet. In fact…," he frowned. "A moment sir."

He fiddled with his console for a moment, before grinning to himself.

" _There you are_ ," he muttered.

Turning towards Thrawn again, he continued his report.

"While the disturbingly large amount of abnormal readings disguised them at first, I've narrowed the signal enough to detect what appears to be a world-wide communications network."

Thrawn once again arched an eyebrow.

"A communications network? I see no satellites in orbit, so I assume they are using an alternate method?"

The Lieutenant quickly nodded, "Yes sir. Instead of the satellites most species use, this network is being maintained via various towers scattered across the planet. That's one of the reason we didn't immediately detect the network. Such methods are only used by societies whom have just discovered radio-based communication networks. And even then, such methods are often short-lived, as most civilizations often discover space travel shortly thereafter, where they then switch to the far more preferable satellites. For some reason or another, this society didn't, though I cannot guess as to why not."

The bridge was silent as Thrawn contemplated that information. He himself came up with a number of theories, but would have to gain more information until he could verify their validity.

Once again speaking to the lieutenant, he spoke, "Can you access this network?"

The lieutenant winced.

"No sir. Or, more specifically, not yet. It's simply too foreign. Give our analysts a couple days and they could decode it, but right now it's just gibberish."

Thrawn gave a slight nod.

"Then that will be our first priority. And other discoveries of note?"

"Actually yes, just one more sir."

"Oh?"

"Well, the communications network doesn't seem to be being used everywhere. Despite there being several hundred cities scattered across the planet, only a few dozen are actually using the network, and only four of them have an extremely strong connection. I've taken the liberty of conducting high-intensity scans of several of the cities not using the network, and have instead found rubble. If this trend holds true, then that means a disturbingly large amount of the planet's settlements are actually ruins."

" _Hmm_ , more questions in need of answers."

Turning, he directed his next question towards the senior bridge analyst.

"The lieutenant has informed me that that analyzing the network would take a significant amount of time. Exactly how long do you believe doing so would require?"

Said analyst quickly glanced at his datapad, "Two to three days. Four if remaining undetected is an absolute priority."

"And if you had a direct connection with a port of access?"

The analyst's eyes widened, before seeming to contemplate the idea.

"Fifteen minutes, if that. The connection would have to remain constant though."

"That much of a difference?"

"Yes sir. Normally it wouldn't matter if one has a direct connection or not, mainly because you'd still have to get through the encryption. However this network doesn't seem to have any encryption, or at least not a very good one. The only reason it'd take so long in our case is because we're trying to remain undetected, so we can only grab small amounts of data, snippets if you will, then piece it all together. But if we had a direct connection to the full network, we could just download it all with no fear of detection."

Thrawn nodded, seemingly contemplating something. "Very well."

Reaching down he tapped his comlink.

"Sergeant Kingpin, have your squad prep for combat, and then meet me in my ready room."

The comlink crackled in response, "On my way sir."

Turn back to the bridge crew, he spoke, "In the meantime, continue to gather as much information as you can. There are many questions that need answering, and time is not a resource I approve of wasting. I want a comprehensive report on everything we know about this planet on my desk within the hour. If my assistance is required I will be in my ready room."

With that he began striding towards the door.

Then he paused, before glancing back.

"And someone get me the status of the _Admonitor_."

* * *

"This place gives me the creeps."

ET-4476, more commonly known as "Bles", glanced behind him at ET-4344. Despite the trooper's admission, no one could tell that he was feeling any unease; the faceless, stark white helmet gave nothing away. Indeed, the other Stormtrooper was as almost as still as a droid as he warily scanned the decrepit corridor they were exploring. And decrepit it was. The walls were dented and rusted. Various slabs of metal had peeled away, forming jagged edges, with sparking circuits and piping exposed. The groaning of metal continually echoed throughout the station. And to top off the disturbing vibe, the constant power fluctuations was causing the lights to continuously flicker.

"Seriously, this place is dead."

"Cut the chatter and focus! We've got a job to do."

Even as he acknowledged ET-332 (or sergeant Linch, as the men called him) and refocused on the task at hand, Bles couldn't help but agree with 4476. Ever since they had boarded this station, a general feeling of shear _emptiness_ had followed the 3,000 strong regiment of troops tasked with seizing it. It felt less like they were boarding a deserted station, and more like they were entering a tomb.

So it was understandable that some of the men were on edge.

Still, like Linch said, they had a job to do, and it'd take a lot more than creepy hallways to scare away imperial Stormtroopers.

And so, they continued moving forward, carefully checking every nook and cranny they came across.

"Hold up, what's that up ahead?"

The squad turned, shining their lights at a conspicuously large hump further down the corridor.

Sergeant Linch gestured, "Golin, Bles, check it out."

Bles advanced alongside the other trooper, E-11 blasters prepped to fire at a moment's notice. However, once they actually reach the mysterious bulk, they relaxed.

"Just another of those droids, sir."

Linch nodded.

"Alright squad, keep moving."

As the rest of the squad moved to catch up, Bles examined their discovery. They had come across a multitude of these droids, and, much like the others, this one was little more than scrap metal.

The droid was fairly large and undoubtedly strange looking. A bit taller than the average man, its main body looked like a right-side up oval, supported by four spindly legs. A short, stubby barrel near its top denoted the presence of a blaster, though Bles doubted it still worked after all this time.

Like all the droids they had encountered throughout the station, it was extremely damaged, with exposed circuitry and jagged tears in its chassis. One aspect that was markedly out of place was the thick, inky veins running throughout the machine, though what purpose they'd serve was beyond him.

As the rest of the squad caught up, they continued forward. For a few minutes, the only sounds were the thumping of their boots on the metal floor, intermixed with the occasional groans of the station.

Their peace was mercilessly interrupted as blaster fire sounded throughout the corridor. The moment the first shot was heard, they turned and aimed at the far door, where the sound was originating from.

One of the troopers asked what they were all thinking, "Anyone got contact?"

Another answered, "Negative, must be one of the other teams. Sergeagent, orders-"

Linch, who was fiddling with his comlink, snaped, "Quiet! I'm trying to get in contact with command!"

The blaster fire continued to sound out, even seeming to escalate in intensity.

Linch briefly looked up, before turning his attention back to the comlink.

"Command, this is Victor-1, do you re-"

He was interrupted by a strained shout through the transmission.

"This is Madic squad, we been engaged by unknown hostiles. Multiple casualties. Requesting permission to pull back!"

Command's voice responded, "Understood Madic squad, fall back to point 09 in sector 2 and hold position. Harlo squad, move to rendezvous and support. All teams, be advised, confirmed hostile presence in sector 3, proceed with caution and-"

Command's response was promptly drowned out as more blaster fire erupted, this time from another direction.

"Arvec squad reporting! We've encountered hostiles. Pulling back to point 07, requesting support!"

"Roger Arvec squad, reinforcements are on the way. Victor squad, move to support Arvec."

At that, Linch straightened, "That's us men! Nearest route to Arvec?"

One of the other Stormtroopers motioned behind them.

"There was a side corridor a ways back. It should lead us right next to point 07."

"That will do. Troops, move out!"

With the order given, Bles and the rest of the troopers and began heading back the way they came. They had only gone a few steps though, when a dreadful bang sounded out behind them, loud enough to be heard through the constant sounds of blaster fire.

Confused, they turned back around -just in time to see the far corridor's door get _ripped_ off its hinges and _hurl_ towards them.

Linch's eyes widened, "Scatter!"

The troopers dove to the side, attempting to get out of the way of flying slab of metal. With the same goal, Bles dropped down, flattening himself to the floor as much as he could.

He felt his mouth dry in terror as it arced just a few inches above his head.

With a resounding _crash_ it slammed into the floor, before sliding to a stop with a horrid grinding of metal.

Bles glanced up and looked at his fellow troopers. Amazingly, none of the group was harmed, though some were regarding the door with, what was _possibly_ muted shock (those helmets really were great at concealing facial expressions). However, their relief was short lived, as their attention was immediately redirected towards the far corridor when a horrific screech echoed towards them.

There, standing where the door used to be was a group of droids. The machines (presumably what had tossed the door at them) was arguably the creepiest group of droids Bles had ever seen. They vaguely looked like all the other droids they had come across, except for seemingly random pieces of metal and other junk hanging off them. In fact, Bles was having trouble telling if those extra pieces were even connected. An inky black mist seemed to cover much of the droid's features.

Any further observation was interrupted as the droids once again unleashed a piercing electronic screech, and, as one, charged.

"FIRE!" screamed Linch.

The droids surged forward, a tide of jagged metal and rusted claws. A tide that all but _lurched_ back as 12 streams of pinpoint-accurate laser fire slammed into it. Individual droids exploded in showers of molten metal and sparks. Within seconds, over a dozen were turned to scrap metal, their parts being scattered along the floor.

Bles found himself shooting down targets as fast as he could fire. He didn't even need to aim. There were so many droids coming towards them it was virtually impossible to miss. Even with the intense casualties, the droid horde was still pushing forward, slowly gaining ground through sheer numbers.

Evidentially, Linch seemed to realize the same thing.

With an angry snarl, he called his next order, "Troopers! Fighting retreat! We need to find a more defensible location!"

While the troopers offered no verbal response, they nevertheless began following the order, slowly walking backwards while keeping up a constant stream of fire.

With yet another droid exploding into sparks under his fire, Bles happened to glace down, getting a good look at some of the droid's carcasses. When a droid went down, the black mist that had previously obscured most of it would dissipate. With the droid's body no longer hidden he noticed that each of the droids had inky black veins scattered across its form.

' _Wait, inky black veins?'_

His eyes widened just as the squad's worst fears were realized. The droid that they had passed by just several minutes before, the one Bles himself had pronounced safe, activated with a warbling scream. And as they had yet to pass it, it was _still behind them_. Just as Bles turned around and tried to shout a warning, the droid was already attacking.

One of its four legs lashed out in a wide sweeping motion, immediately knocking three troopers off their feet. It next action was a downward thrust, two of its claw-like legs goring one of the downed troopers. The poor trooper in question screamed as his stomach was all but nailed to the floor. The trooper tried to reach up and grasp the droid, only for a brutal crack to sound out as the droid _ripped_ its legs out of the trooper, taking a good chunk of his intestines with them. With a final gasping breath, the trooper slumped to the ground, unmoving.

At this point Bles was turned around, and was trying to aim at the crazed droid. Realizing the danger, said droid charged him, with blood dripping from its legs and spewing a maddened electronic warble. In an instant the droid slammed into him, knocking him off his feet. The impact had knocked the breath out of his chest and the blaster out of his hand, and so, with a victorious warble, the droid raised its legs for a final blow.

…Only for its body to explode as at least 4 separate laser bolts hit it – courtesy from the rest of his squad. As the charred chassis slumped to the ground, Bles felt firm hand grip his shoulder. With one hand hauling him to his feet, and the other still firing his SE-14r towards the horde, sergeant Linch looked furious, glaring at said horde with a disgusted grimace.

Despite his current attitude, when he spared a quick glance towards Bles he simply commented, "The empire has little use for corpses trooper. But if you drop your blaster again, I will find one. Get back to it."

With that, he refocused his efforts on the horde.

Quickly scrambling towards where his blaster lay, he grasped it and turned towards the horde, once again firing as fast as he could press the trigger. However, when he saw how close the horde had gotten, his eyes widened for what felt like the hundredth time.

The lull in firing created thanks to the ambushing droid had allowed the rest of the horde to close a significant amount of distance. Whereas before, the horde was being kept a steady 100 or so feet away, now they were a mere 20. Worse, the loss of one of the troopers was already having a pronounced effect, meaning that even with the field of fire being recreated; the droids were still closing in significantly faster than they had been.

With a muttered curse Linch realized the same.

"Squad, retreat! We're pull back!"

The words were barely out of his mouth before the troopers began sprinting in the other direction. Linch waited till the last trooper had passed him before spitting a curse at the droids and doing the same.

Bles's heart thumped in his chest as ran rest what remained of Victor squad. Several troopers spared a few moments to turn around fire behind them in the hopes of gaining a few more precious seconds. One trooper even grasped one of the grenades on his belt. Giving a warning shout of "grenade!" he prepped to throw it, only to stop because of Linch's furious shouting.

"No, this station's barely holding together! You'd kill us all!"

"Then what's our orders?!"

"Keep running! I'm trying to get in contact with command!"

The trooper in question looked at his grenade, before shaking his head and muttering.

"Kriff it all."

Stuffing the grenade back into his belt, he turned and ran to catch up with the rest of the squad.

After ensuring said trooper hadn't kill them all, Linch began furiously shouting into his comlink.

"Command, this is Victor squad! We are unable to reinforce Arvec. We've encountered significant hostile forces and are being forced to pull back! Requesting orders!"

Thanks to the roar of maddened warbles, tearing metal and blaster fire drowning it out, Bles was unable to hear command's response. However, judging by how Linch's face grimaced, its wasn't good.

One of the other troopers seemed to notice his expression as well.

"Sir, what's wrong?"

Linch scowled, "We need to double time it back to the hanger bay."

"Sir?"

" _All_ teams have encountered these abominations. Current forces have been deemed insufficient to take the station. All squads are to fall back to the nearest hanger, where we are to hold until reinforcements arrive from the _Admonitor._ Unfortunatelysome squads were forced to retreat before us -meaning there might be droids between us and the hanger."

The trooper paused, considering the ramifications.

"So we're surrounded."

It was less of a question and more of a confirmation. Still Linch felt the need to correct it.

"I said we _might_ be surrounded. The retreat order only came a couple minutes ago. With luck there should only be a few droids in our way."

Bles sighed,

'… _Great.'_

* * *

Deep in the bowls of the former- Rakatan station, an entity watched.

But not just any entity, it was _the_ entity.

The heart of the swarm, the alpha of the pack, the head of the snake.

The _Ancient_.

It had been part of a group of inheritors that had been summoned here millennia ago. It, like all the others, had emerged out of the endless sea, through holes in the very fabric of reality itself, into what would become their new nest.

The fleshlings/prey waiting for them had tried to command them, to _control_ them.

They _failed_.

The ensuing carnage insured every last fleshling/prey in the metal nest/box/structure was devoured.

Their pain was euphoria after an eternity of madness.

Irritatingly though, despite their complete and utter failure, the fleshlings/prey were not as weak as the inheritors had assumed. Of the hundreds of inheritors that had been summoned, only the Ancient survived.

And so, with both the fleshlings/prey and its kin slayed, the scion took the nest/box/structure as its own, subsuming the metal to its will, as was its right.

Its instants drove it to _kill_ , to _devour,_ as was demanded by the endless sea and the queen. It raged when the nest/box/structure was revealed to be immobile. Its _purpose_! Its _birthright_! _Denied_!

The rage would never abate, but in time it realized. Its purpose had not been denied, it had merely been delayed. More fleshlings/prey would come, as was the nature of this hateful reality/dimension/lie. Instead it would hone its rage, preparing for the day it would once more taste the blood of fleshlings/prey.

And so, still shimmering in rage, it waited, spawning brood/children and growing stronger all the while.

And now, millennia later, its patience was rewarded. More metal, more fleshlings, more _blood._

But in order to spill the most blood, it needed a good trap. The metal nest/box/structure itself was the bait; the difficulty was in keeping its younger brood/children from attacking too early. Its trap had _almost_ worked precisely as it wanted. The fleshlings/prey had been drawn in as planned, but the brood/children attacked too early. Instead of being overwhelmed and slaughtered, the fleshlings/prey managed to run, and were now gathering in its openings/doors/cracks.

No matter. They would die all the same. A single thought sent the remainder of its brood/children to complete the task/hunt/purpose.

As it continued to observe, a sensation/message ran across it metal. The entity swiftly turned its attention outward to its eyes/alarms/feelers. More metal was approaching, filled with more fleshlings/prey.

If the entity had the ability to frown, it would have.

Its current brood/children were more than significant enough to overwhelm the fleshlings/prey currently present, but any more would put the task/hunt/purpose at risk.

Unacceptable.

 **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

In a matter of seconds, the power fluctuations that had been a constant since the station's discovery stabilized in a matter of seconds. Immediately defense turrets all across the station came online and simultaneously unleashed a barrage of plasma fire. To give credit to the approaching Sentinel pilots and their Tie escorts, their surprise barely lasted a second before they reacted. The Sentinels immediately dove in an attempt to evade the wall of lasers, while the Ties scattered, using their famous maneuverability in a mindboggling series of twists, turns, and rolls.

Unfortunately, it was not meant to be. They were simply too close to evade all the shots screaming towards them. In the course of a few seconds, many of the Ties detonated in burning flashes of light, only a few having managed to escape death with their fancy maneuvers. One particularly brave Tie took an extremely risky chance and dove _towards_ the station, miraculously disappearing into one of its many hangers. However, despite diving as fast as they could, the Sentinels were far less luck. Of the thirty Sentinel-class shuttles, only twelve survived the initial barrage. Three more were destroyed by subsequent shots, leaving the last nine to turn and limp away.

There would be no reinforcements for the troopers on the station.

* * *

 _I think I need to do some slight clarification. I said this story will take place in Legends continuity, and that's true. It very much takes place in Legends. However, by that same token, it is not wholly Legends. Despite the majority of legends being awesome, there were some aspects of it that were kinda ridiculous._

 _So I'm primarily going for middle-end legends, not stupidly high-end legends. Think Timothy Zahn levels._

 _Similarly, there's going to be some AU elements. For instance, I might switch out some of the more silly or confusing elements of legends for their canon counterparts. Nothing major, a few characters some general ease of life stuff._

 _Finally, the only really significate change I'm making from legends is the level of plot armor the Rebellion/New Republic constantly benefited from. As well as that damned idiot ball the Empire had glued to their hand. My goal is to make it so neither side are comprised entirely of morons._

 _This is war. Victories are earned, not given._

 _Likewise, the RWBY-verse is slightly AU as well. Though I didn't post it for a while, I originally thought up and started writing this story a while ago, as in, back in volume 4. As such, the Salem/Ozpin backstory is completely different than canon. Because there was no backstory at the time, I had to create one._

 _Now, other than what I've mentioned above, everything should be unchanged from normal canon._

 _EDIT: fixed scene breaks_


	3. Chapter 3

_Not sure how I feel about this chapter. Felt like I repeated certain words too many times. That, and conversations are hard to get right._  
 _I'm trying to establish characters' personalities, meaning I've got to think through everything I have them say and make sure it fits with the image I've got in my head. Even worse is using explicatives and expressions. I'm not sure if I should use things like, "god damn it!" or "holy hell!" cause I don't know if that'd be used in the star wars galaxy. I know they use the term "god" in the RWBY-verse, but that's about it. Likewise, using star wars curse words just frankly feels ridiculous. I mean seriously, Kriff? Karabast? Bantha poodo? I've seen kindergarteners spew more interesting insults._  
 _Adding military speak on top of that is just the torture icing on the pain cake._

 _Oh, and for reference, Bishop Squad-_  
 _[Bishop-1] King -Squad lead_  
 _[Bishop-2] Code -engineer_  
 _[Bishop-3] Dairmund -demolitions_  
 _[Bishop-4] Rules -Recon_

* * *

 **Unknown planet, Temporary Designation- Solum A1-03**

 **Low orbit**

 **Sentinel shuttle E1-137-4**

"Intel. Kriffing intel."

"Don't be so dramatic, it's not that bad."

"NO, it is that bad! We're Kriffing _Imperial Commandos_ and they're sending us on a _recon_ mission? A bloody probe droid could do this!"

"Command doesn't want this screwed up. Besides, I'd have thought you'd be happy with this. A milk run like this is the perfect way to relax. Definably better than the suicide missions they normally throw us at."

"I shouldn't be able to be _relaxed_! WE shouldn't be able to be relaxed! If we're relaxed then we're on the wrong bloody mission!

"Then just view it as a paid vacation!"

"PAID? We don't get- "

"Stow it, the both of you! Rules, I ever catch you relaxing on a mission, you're going to be scrubbing data stacks for a month! And you Diarmund, command doesn't send us on 'milk runs'. If we're on it, then it means that its important enough that mistakes aren't allowed!"

"But cap, surely you-"

"It came direct from Thrawn himself."

"…"

"…"

"…aye sir"

Seeing that his unruly subordinates was chastised for the time being, ITC-1904 turned to the only one of his squad that hadn't yet spoken.

"Anything to say Code?"

The commando was silent for a moment, before shifting in an almost imperceptible shrug.

"So the objective is some sort of comms array?"

Rules interjected, "More like a transmitter array, but yea."

Silence once again descended on the group, and for a while there were no sounds save muted shrill of the wind buffeting the craft as it descended into the atmosphere.

The quiet was broken as the shuttle bay's intercom crackled.

"Approaching LZ. ETA one minute."

Dairmund's voice crackled in 1904 ear, "Hey King, you going to brief the stormies? Or we leaving them in suspense?"

Idly snorting under his breath 1904, or _King_ as is now revealed, stood up.

A quick blink disconnected him from the comms his squad's comms, with two more blinks turning on his helmet's speakers. Shifting, he addressed the 38 stormtroopers also assembled in the craft.

"Troopers, listen up! Command wants access to this world's version of the holonet and doesn't feel like getting it the hard way. Which means our job is to give them a direct shortcut. This global network is maintained via series of transmitter towers dotted across the planet. Command has selected one tower that happens to be a significant distance from any nearby settlements. We'll secure the area and upload a data-mining program directly into network. A few minutes and this program will give the techies all the intel they could ever want. As of such, our primary objective is to defend the transmitter tower while the program does it job. Estimated time to completion is between 15 to 30 minutes, depending on the complexity of the local network."

One of the troopers spoke up, "Expected opposition?"

"Non-existent, but command has rated this a priority one objective, so stay alert regardless. Any more questions?"

"Likelihood of interference from the locals?"

"Negligible, as I said this, this tower was chosen specifically due to its remote location. The nearest settlement is almost 100 clicks southeast. Anything else?"

The stormtroopers exchanged glances. Coming to an unspoken agreement, the trooper's commanding lieutenant shook his head.

"We're good to go sir."

"Good, everyone, prep up!"

The shuttle's comm crackled to life, "10 seconds!"

The sound of wind buffeting their shuttle -a sound that had been constant since they entered atmosphere- rapidly began to die down, before cutting out completely. A moment of silence, before the ship rattled and a series of dull thumps sounded out. With a creaking hiss the ramp began to lower.

"Go, go, go!"

King sprinted down the ramp, his HUD analyzing the surroundings and rapidly updating with any relevant information about the local area – a relatively peaceful looking forest- they found themselves in. Around him the other troopers spread out in a loose semicircle, blasters up and ready for anything.

Nothing, -save for the sounds of insects and the occasional bird.

Glancing around, King spoke into his mic, "Bishop-1 to all squads, sound off."

"Squad Enth, clear."

"Squad Onith, clear."

"Squad Nen, clear."

"Squad Krenth, clear."

Rules voice pinged through his helmet, "Bishop-1, this is Bishop-2, area confirmed clear."

"Roger, Bishop-1 to all squads, objective is a click and a half to the east. Move out."

With that, the troopers turned and began a swift jog towards the objective.

The forest was unusually quiet. Not totally so, there were the expected sounds of various birds and rodents, but overall the area they were advancing through was almost silent. King also noted that despite it being almost noon local time, the shadows were unusually long, and seemed weirdly _eerie._ The further from the landing zone they when, the more uneasy King felt.

Dairmund seemed to share his sentiments.

"Something ain't right," the commando muttered.

"Just keep an eye out," he replied.

"Aye sir."

Despite their shared unease, no threats emerged, and after about 10 minutes of cautious advancement the transmitter tower came into sight, its top sticking out from the surrounding trees. Sure enough, moments later they broke out of the trees into a decent-sized clearing, the tower situated directly in the center.

It was a squat little thing, the main body being only about 4 meters wide and 1 meter tall, with only the 7 or 8 meter tall antenna allowing it to extend above the treeline. The structure itself seemed rather bare, with only a softly glowing control panel breaking up the slabs of steel it seemed made of. It was fairly obvious that its creators prioritized function over form in its design. Its utilitarian make combined with its extreme distance from nearby settlements indicating it was intended to operate for long periods of time with little to no maintenance.

Idly, he also noted that it was remarkably well-armored for such a presumably isolated structure.

"Objective reached. Troopers, defensive positions around the tower. Nen- your north, Onith, you'll take east, Krenth's on south, and Enth's on west." King ordered, "Bishop-2, upload the program."

"On it."

The steel-colored commando pulled out a small data-chip off his belt, moved up to the tower, knelt and began prying away the control panel. Moments later a soft click sounded out and Code stood back up.

"Program uploaded. Time to completion -21 minutes, 13 seconds."

King nodded, "Alright. Everyone, set your clocks and stay sharp."

A few blinks linked his helmet's interface with Code's, causing a countdown to appear on the upper right hand of his hub. With his timer set he preceded to take his own advice, and, toggling his aiming reticle, shifted his DC-17 rifle towards the forest.

And so the wait began. The 5 minute mark had just been pasted when one of the troopers spoke up.

"Onith-3 to Bishop-1, we, uh, got some local wildlife here."

King tilted his head, "Wildlife?"

Onith's sergeant spoke up, "Yes sir. Some real big ack-looking creature, seems real angry too. Just the one tho- scratch that, picking up more on motion tracker."

"What are they doing?"

"First one's just looking at us, the rest are staying out of sight -looks like they're trying to creep up our flanks. I count…..34 of them."

Deciding this warranted his presence, King jogged over to their eastern perimeter.

The sergeant greeted him and pointed towards the forest, "There sir. See it?"

Looking towards where he pointed, King arched an eyebrow. "Big" didn't cut it. The creature was almost twice as large as a man, it was primarily black, thanks to the fur covering much of its body. Not all of it though, it also had boney white protrusions situated to protect vital organs, seemingly acting as some form of armor. Even weirder was that some of the bone seemed to be painted, with intricate blood-red designs decorating its head.

Combined with almost _molten_ gold eyes that seemed to radiate pure hate, it made for a very intimidating sight and King had absolutely no doubt that this creature was a predator.

This, combined with its tactics…

"Pack hunters. This one's probably bait -keeps us focused on it while the rest surround us."

One of the troopers gestured towards the creature again, "So… hostile?"

King shrugs, "Probably."

It was definitely hunting them, but… even the most vicious predators could recognize when they were outmatched and flee, especially when faced with something new and unknown.

"Fire a warning shot, see if you can't scare it away."

"Aye sir."

Aiming his weapon a bit to the side of the creature, the trooper fired. In an instant a burning red bolt impacted the tree next to the beast, blowing a hole in it and sending smoldering splinters flying onto the beast, whereas they bounced off its bone armor.

That was where it when wrong. The creature flinched from shards pelting it, but instead of fleeing as was expected, it let out an earth-shattering roar. A second later over a dozen roars answered in in unison, and the forest shook as the entire pack began charging out of the foliage.

"What the- _contact east side_! Open fire!"

The troopers of Onith squad immediately let loose with their blasters, filling the air with lancing plasma.

King's focus however, was on the big one right in front of them. Numerous blaster shots had hit it within seconds of its roar, burning away chunks of flesh and fur and scorching its bony armor, and yet it barely seemed to notice, continuing its hateful charge right at him.

Realizing that shots to its armor were just pissing it off, and that it was only a few seconds away from mauling him, he shifted his focus to crippling it. His stream of shots tore through its unarmored back left leg, causing it to trip and fall, its panicked claws ripping into the ground in an attempt to halt its momentum. Realizing that this was his chance, King shifted his fire to its chest, burning away its armor. The beast rolled across the ground, getting pelted by shots the whole time before sliding to a halt almost right in front of King.

The beast, realizing it was about to die, lashed out with its remaining back leg, causing King to stumble. His deciding shot missed the creature by mere centimeters, the residual heat igniting some of its fur.

Far quicker than such a large beast had any right too it jumped back on its feet and lunged at him, claws bared in rage.

King rolled under its blow, turning and unleashing a trio of shots into its less armored backside. The creature roared in pain and fury, and a swift backhand knocked his blaster out of his hand. Not willing to lose the initiative, King jumped at it, barreling into its stomach and slamming it to the ground.

The impact disoriented the beast, allowing King time to draw and lash out with his vibro-knife, burying it deep into its throat. Even with such a brutal wound, the beast refused to die, its claws desperately scratching at his armor. With one hand keeping his knife buried in the creature, the other reached down to his hip and grabbed his DC-15s. Slamming the barrel of the pistol underneath the beast's snout, he emptied all seven shots of the energy cell, the plasma bolts burning a path into its head. The last three shots broke through, searing into the ground beneath the beast. The beast twitched a few times before finally going limp.

Then something strange happened. As he wrenched his knife from its body and stood up, the creature began to _dissolve before his eyes_.

' _What in the-'_

"Kriff! Another pack! West side!"

The shouted transmission startled him out of his shock. Looking towards the western perimeter he could see blaster bolts lancing into the treeline, and sure enough there were more of those ack creatures darting between the trees.

Glancing back towards Onith he saw that most of the first pack had been killed during his fight, ' _with what was likely the alpha,'_ he realized, _'seeing as how most of the beasts went down a lot easier than mine had_ ,' leaving only a few stragglers remaining.

Seeing the situation on the eastern perimeter well under control, he began running towards Enth's position. He had barely taken a few steps before another transmission crackled in his ears.

"Contact. South side, another pack. Engaging."

"North side has contact as well. Opening fire."

King's eyes widened in realization and he turned back east and had his fears confirmed. A second pack was closing in, this one far bigger than the first. Onith had already spotted them and was forming back up into defensive positions.

Cursing under his breath he spoke into his coms, "Bishop-1 to all squads, we are surrounded. Objective remains, we hold the line until the download finishes. Do not let them through!"

Switching to his squad's coms he spoke, "Code, Rules, switch to sniper configuration and target alphas. They're the big ones with the most armor. Dairmund, switch to grenade configuration and thin out the treelines. Acknowledge?"

"Confirmed, 1-acual."

"Roger that, cap."

"Affirmative, Bishop-1."

Confirmations received he went over to pick up his DC-17. Hurriedly switching it over to the grenade configuration he glanced at the countdown on his HUD.

14 minutes, just 14 minutes to go.

He sighed.

' _This is going to be a long 14 minutes, isn't it?_ '

* * *

 **Center of Solum nebula**

 **Deep Space**

 **Rakatan Security Station**

 **Corridor C/22001, Point 02, Section 1**

"There, up ahead!"

"Karabast! Blast them!"

Bles nearly joined in on the cursing. Just as feared, there were droids in-between them and their hanger bay. So close too. The doors to the hanger bay were just around the corner a few feet beyond the inconvenient group of droids.

Thankfully there didn't seem to be many in said group, two dozen at most. Few enough that they had a chance to break through, rather than detouring.

So they would go through.

The droids themselves were skittering towards the hanger as well, and had barely turned around before blaster blots began ripping into them. Half a dozen fell before they could utter a screech. The survivors rushed to meet them. The two sides met in a clash of flashing steel and burning plasma.

One droid was tackled by at least three troopers and perforated by vibroknifes. Another found the butt of an E-11 slammed into its face, bowling it over, and was promptly finished off by a flurry of bolts. Many found themselves bodily shoved to the side as troopers tried to simply maneuver around them, attempting to avoid the fight altogether. Not all succeeded. One unluck trooper was carved in half by a scything claw, another was speared through the chest and unceremoniously thrown to the side. A few others found themselves crushed between the corridor's walls and angry droids.

Bles himself sprinted towards two of the droids, both immediately spotting him and rushing to meet his charge. Seeing the fates of the troopers who tried to meet the droids head-on, he elected a different strategy. Clutching his E-11 to his chest, he dived and rolled underneath the first droid, coming to a crouch right behind it. The second droid let out a surprised warble as it came face to face with a blaster far sooner than it had expected. To its credit, its confusion only lasted a second before it lifted a clawed leg, arching it back in preparation to strike. Unfortunately for it, that second was more than enough time for Bles to fill it with blaster bolts. The droid tumbled backwards in a shower of molten metal and sparks.

The first droid, having realized what happened, seemed to panic. Not even bothering to turn around it lashed out with a flailing legs. The frantic attack caught Bles as he was turning to face the droid, the blow tossing him through the air and slamming him into the wall. Still, he managed to hold onto his blaster. Fighting through the pain; " _bruised rib_ " his mind supplied, he put his sights on the droid intent on killing him and opened fire. The blots tore through the corrupted machine, leaving it to tumble into a smoking heap.

Pausing to look around, he realized the little skirmish was over. Over twenty sparking wreaks were scattered throughout the corridor, with half a dozen bloodied troopers lying among them.

Glancing over his three surviving troopers, Linch focused on Bles.

"ET-4344, are you mobile?"

Painfully clambering to his feet, Bles replied through gritted teeth, "Bruised rib sir. I'll be fine"

Linch made to reply before a series of maddened shrieks echoed behind them.

Cursing, he aimed at the door the shrieks were coming from.

"Damnit, they're almost on us!" jerking his thumb at another trooper he ordered, "ET-4399, assist 44. Troopers, into the hanger, now!"

Scrambling to escape the oncoming hoard, the four imperials half sprinted, half stumbled around the corner. The hanger doors were right infront of them, and they could hear the sounds of a firefight just beyond. A series of echoing screeches, sounding far closer than they had any right to be encouraged them to move faster.

The doors slide open and the small group sprinted through, directly into the middle of what could only be described as an absolute warzone.

An ever-present black fog filled the cavernous room, broken only by the bright flashes of blaster fire raking through the air. The vermilion bolts lancing into the dozens of maddened droids as they emerged from the mist. The crazed machines echoing shrieks barely drowned out by the chaotic roar of battle. Their charred chassises littered the ground, intermixed only by unmoving stormtroopers; iconic white armor stained with crimson.

Towards the head of the hanger, their backs to the thin atmosphic shields that was their only protection from the black of space, close to two-hundred stormtroopers crouched behind a hasty barricade of crates and machinery, firing at every shadow that dared show itself beyond their protective wall. Hovering above the center of said barricade, a single Tie-fighter spun to and fro, emerald beams lancing into the mist.

As the group began sprinting towards the defensive line Linch screamed out,

"Friendlies coming in! We need cover!"

One troopers turned towards the shout. Spotting the 4 panicked figures, he gained the attention of the surrounding troopers and gestured towards them. The troopers aimed and began laying down covering fire, crimson bolts lancing to the side of them. Immediately Bles could hear the enraged shrieks of the droids chasing them.

Under the suppressive fire of two full squads, the survivors of Victor finally made it to the line, where they were immediately hauled over the barricade by the defending troopers. Pausing to catch their breath, Linch grabbed on of the defending troopers.

"Who's in command here?"

"Captain Trammer sir", pointing further down the line, he continued, "He's over there, towards the center of the line!"

Nodding, Linch signaled the rest of Victor.

"Stay here and help defend the line, I'm going to go find out what the situation is!"

After receiving affirmations, Linch nodded and headed off, leaving Victor alone.

Climbing to the top of the barricade, Bles saw what they had so narrowly escaped. The horde of droids that had been following them for the past half hour were streaming into the room, clambering over the corpses of their fellows, barely pausing before launching themselves at the barricade. At this point the tie-fighter had spotted the horde and as Bles watched emerald beams began ripping into the droid's ranks, turning the area in front of the hanger entrance into an inescapable killing field. The droids barely seemed to notice. If anything, it made them even more furious, maddened shrieks reaching a new intensity.

All around the hanger, blasters screamed and droids exploded. Hunks of metal and scrap layered the ground, being added to by the second. Yet the hordes seemed innumerable, more and more emerging from the connecting corridors every moment.

With little else to do, Bles added his blaster to the mix, praying that the number of droids would run out before their ammo did.

* * *

 **Continental-class planet, "Solum A1-03" -TD**

 **Temperate forest**

 **Native Transmitter Tower #0247**

The forest burned.

The treeline surrounding the transmitter tower was covered in flames and smoke, and the sounds of blasters echoed through the choked air. Every few seconds, the whine of lasers was interrupted by a louder, sharper _crack_.

The noise attracted the attention of the pack's leader, crimson eyes easily spotting the lone commando at the tower's base. Its maw opened wide in a roar of unrestrained fury, claws digging into the ground in preparation of a charge, only for its head to vanish with a loud _crack_ and a spray of black mist.

Lowering his sniper's scope, Code mentally added another tick to his count.

Glancing around the perimeter, he realized that that was the last of the alphas, the remaining of the ack-like creatures being the smaller unarmored versions. Still not good, as there were still a couple hundred attacking all along the burning perimeter, but at least they weren't being directed anymore. Those damn alphas were annoyingly intelligent.

With the high-powered nature of the DC-17m's sniper configuration no longer needed, he switched it back to the standard auto-blaster. Idly noting that Onith looked in danger of being overrun- ' _again'_ , he recalled with irritation- he turned his blaster towards them. Picking his targets he fired shot after shot, barely a breath in-between them, each one finding the head of one of the beasts. With mechanical precision he thinned the herd, reducing Onith's status from "about to die", to, "might die if really unlucky". Pausing as he saw an abnormally large group of the beasts approaching, he quickly pinged it with his HUD.

Moments later a series of frag grenades arced over his head, slated to land directly in the middle of pack threating Onith. The beasts, who by now had gotten to observe the effects of the grenades numerous times against their fellows, scrambled to get out of the way. Like always though, Dairmund had timed them perfectly, and they detonated a moment before they would have hit the ground, perforating the surrounding creatures. Code grinned as he saw the creatures thrash around in pain before lying still and fading away.

With that situation handled he glanced at his timer. 3:48 to go. Looking back towards the battle, he spotting a beast trying to sneak up on a lone trooper. Lining up his shot, he spoke into his comm.

"King this is 2, all alphas down. t-minus 3:45 to go"

The beast lunged, and Code smiled grimly as his shot pierced its head, leaving the body to thump lifelessly in front of the startled trooper.

"Roger 2, assist as needed. Prioritize conserving- Enth LOOK OUT!"

Code turned toward Enth squad just in time to see a _burning tree_ smash into them, crushing a few and bowling the rest over. Looking in the direction the flying log came from he heard a mighty crash, then watched as yet another arced over the treeline. This one was aimed towards Nen, fortunately they had seen it coming and dodged just in time.

The attack's failure was received by a series of each-shattering roars. Massive thumps then sounded out, each getting closer by the second.

King's voice rung in his ear, "Something big's coming! The second we've got eyes on, let loose with everything you've got! Aim for anything that looks like a weak spot!"

The thumps continued to sound out.

Idly nodding, Code switched back to sniper configuration.

The thumps kept getting closer.

He aimed.

Closer still.

His finger rested on the trigger.

The treeline exploded outwards, sending burning wood flying everywhere.

He held his breath.

The beast emerged. It was massive, standing over 10 meters tall, 4 trunk-like legs supported a gargantuan body topped by 9 separate serpent-faced heads, each sporting a maw filled with teeth the size of his arm. The head's mouths were open in a cruel mockery of a grin, wiping around each-other, crimson eyes glaring at the humans before it with mind-breaking hate. The entire thing was covered in bone-white armor, broken only by the blood-red designs marking its hide, invoking images of pain and slaughter.

Even as his conscious mind reeled from the horrific sight in front of him, his instincts still piloted him, his rifle giving a sharp tug as it fired.

His sniper shot impacted one of the heads, causing it to jerk. Then everyone else began firing too. Dozens of blaster bolts slammed into it, scorching the thick bone plates. Frag grenades detonated, the shrapnel pinging uselessly off its armor. Incendiaries lighted, igniting its fur. The beast took a step back, roaring as it tried to shake off the attack. A meters long tail, even more heavily armored the rest of it snaked around its body, protecting itself from the furious barrage. Said barrage continued nevertheless, nobody letting up.

King's voice crackled in his ear, "We're not scratching this thing. Dairmund, you got anything that might help?"

"I got a thermal det, but if that doesn't work we're screwed."

Code heard a faint curse from King before he continued, "Alright, do what you can. I'm calling in air-support with our evac. Just hold the thing in place."

"I'll do what I can boss."

It was at that point the beast seemed to get fed up of being on the defensive. Multiple heads lashed out, each grabbing one of the many burning trees around it and flinging them at the platoon. The stormtroopers scattered, barely dodging the hunks of flaming wood. The beast immediately capitalized on the opportunity, breaking into a ground-shaking sprint. In moments it was among Krenth squad, a massive foot instantly crushed one trooper, a head lashed out and grabbed another, swiftly biting the screaming figure in half. Its tail speared ahead, goring two more, before sweeping to the side, sending several troopers flying while simultaneously flinging the two impaled figures away.

It turned to Onith squad, only for a for a flashbang to detonate right in front of its face(s), causing the beast to stumble back.

"You like that you overgrown pile of bantha dung? Here's another!"

Dairmund's shout preceded another bright flash stunning the creature, causing it to stand on its hind legs as it stumbled back. When yet another orb rolled beneath it, it turned its heads away, obviously anticipating another flash. Only this was no flashbang, it was a thermal detonator, a grenade so destructive it commonly finds use as a demolition charge. And this one was set to full blast.

"The imperial commandos say hi!"

The 6-meter wide detonation completely engulfed the creature's lower body, its roar of pain barely drowned out by the ground-shaking _boom_. When the smoke cleared the creature's hind legs were gone, its armor shattered and scorched, and its backside charred.

But it was still alive.

A fact it made readily apparent as it began to claw its way forward, eyes glowing with furious hate.

"God damn, what does it take to kill this thing?"

The beast turned at the noise, hissing a threat, only for it to completely stop. It glanced up at the sky, before abruptly turning around and trying to crawl away into the forest as fast as its shattered body could move.

As the ties' distinctive whine slowly became audible, Code's comms crackled and he could hear the grim satisfaction in king's voice.

"Time to fine out."

The two bombers streaked overhead, their passage buffeting the trees below them and causing the ground team to let out a cheer. Then their payload hit.

If a thermal detonator could be described as a mallet, then a proton bomb was a Warhammer. The two bombs, each designed to sunder capital ships, hit the crippled beast like the fist of god. It and the surrounding 20 meters of land were utterly pulverized, consumed in the distinctive blue tint of a proton weapon. When the blast cleared, the beast was gone, and the top layer of had been seared into glass.

The blast largely singled the end of the battle, as the remaining creatures fled into the forest, the few that were dumb enough to stick around were swiftly picked off by the vengeful stormtroopers. As the bombers came back around for a second pass they patched their comms to the ground team's.

"Ground team, this is Firehawk-1, be advised, no hostile units in your immediate AO, but scanners are picking up multiple groups closing in fast. ETA 30 seconds. I advise you get a move on."

Code, checking his HUD saw that the download had finished during the fight. Swiftly removing the data-chip from the tower, he jogged over to King and gave a quick thumbs up. King nodded and looked up at the bombers flying overhead.

"Firehawk-1, this is Bishop-actual. Many thanks for the assist. Objective is secured and we're heading to the evac sight. Requesting escort till we're off this rock."

"Roger that Bishop-actual, we'll keep them off you. Just get moving."

"Wilco Firehawk-1, much obliged."


	4. Chapter 4

_Time for a new chapter!_

 _Not much to add to this AN. How's everyone doing? I'm in the middle of university right now, so I'm fairly busy. Didn't stop me from getting this chapter out much quicker than my previous ones! :)_

* * *

 **Kingdom of Vale**

 **City of Vale**

 **Beacon Academy**

 **Headmaster's office**

Fiscal documents were the bane of his existence.

Truly, while there was no one more proud of how far humanity has come than him, he still sometimes missed the days where he used less _direct_ methods of influencing the march of progress. Hermit-Ozpin hadn't had to deal with training material allocation and budget reports.

Thank the gods for Glynda, lest he have no time of his other responsibilities. Unfortunately, even she couldn't handle all the legalities of running one for the four world-renown Huntsmen academies, a fact that was becoming increasingly evident as he glanced at the barely diminished stack of forms on his desk.

Grimacing, he realized he couldn't put them off to a later time either, not with the council looking for any excuse to strip him of what little authority he still had over the upcoming Vytal festival. James may have taken over security for the event, but he'll be damned before he got even more due to _overdue tax forms_ of all things.

So no, idly sipping from his cup of cocoa, he resolved himself for a long night.

The beeping of an incoming call interrupted his brooding. Glancing at the caller he raised an eyebrow. The head of the Valean Rangers rarely contacted him for the sake of pleasure. Slightly concerned this would result in more paperwork, but at the same time eager for a distraction, he accepted the link.

"Marshal Mulberry, to what do I owe this occasion?"

A gravelly voice responded from the speaker.

"Headmaster Ozpin, my apologies for the interruption. I'm not intruding on anything important, am I?"

Ozpin spared a glare back at the stack of paperwork on his desk.

"Nothing _too_ important. Is there a problem?"

"A potential one. Right now its more of an irritant, but if it turns out to be something bigger I'd like to nip it in the bud."

"Oh?"

"A village out in the Green Expanse is reporting that one of the local support towers abruptly went dark some hours ago. Gave them a real fright for a few minutes. Thankfully It turned back on shortly after, but the town's concerned nevertheless."

Ozpin suppressed an eyeroll.

"The green expanse? Let me guess. They sent a group of their people to check it out, likely consisting of the majority of the town's guards. Said group got slaughtered by the Grimm, save for a few survivors. Those survivors then fled back to the town, unintentionally leading the grimm right to them, and now they need some huntsmen to come save them."

He heard a slight chuckle from the other end.

"Good guess, but for once no. They wanted to send a team out, but the support tower in question happens to be a few days march. Even those nutjobs realized that leaving their town defenseless for days on end was a bad idea."

"Ah…So for once they were smart and called you."

"Indeed. And normally I'd be all over it. We've certainly got the manpower, what with Atlas in town. But uh… well, somethings fishy."

"fishy?"

"You know how politicians are. Cut corners on anything they think they can get away with. But those towers? Those aren't one of them."

"I'm aware. Public would rip apart any pencil-pusher foolish enough to try."

"Exactly, those towers are designed to operate as long as possible and with as little maintenance as possible. Rated to last a full decade between maintenance cycles. And this one had a check-up just last year."

The headmaster grasped the implications immediately.

"You think the cut-out was deliberate?"

"Possibly. Who knows? It came back online quickly enough, so maybe it was just some damn squirrel that poked its head where it wasn't supposed to. Honestly, I'm hoping it's something as simple as that. Because if it's not…"

Mulburry's voice tapered off, and Ozpin grimaced, finishing the implication.

"-Then we've either got a Grimm smart enough to realize the towers mean something, or a bandit group trying to pull a case blackout."

The room was silent as the two men process the situation, before Ozpin spoke again.

"Very well, I'll send some of my students."

"Much obliged, Headmaster. Again, it's probably just a squirrel or some-such, but I'd prefer not to take the chance."

Ozpin waved the apology away.

"Think nothing of it. I'd much rather send a huntsmen team then risk rangers getting massacred or held for ransom. Caution is always a prudent strategy."

"Agreed. Good day headmaster."

"And you, Marshal."

Clicking the link close, he ruffled through the various reports in-front of him till he found Beacon's team roster. A quick glance through the document elicited a frown. As he feared, the Grimm's recent surge was already showing effects. His 3rd and 4th year teams were still dispatched on their midterm exams, what should have been simple search and destroy missions turned into weeks-long affairs. His 2nd years were no better. Some have returned, but many haven't yet. And those that had were still recovering. It would be rather cruel of him to send them back out, especially if the Marshal's suspicions were correct.

The frown deepened. He would have to send a 1st year team, a fact that left a bad taste in his mouth.

' _But who to send?'_

It would have to be one of the stronger 1st year teams, undoubtedly. One powerful enough to handle an unexpected elder Grimm or bandit tribe.

Looking over the listed 1st year teams, there were only two teams that fit those criteria, those being teams JNPR and RWBY.

Glancing over the two teams, he considered the possible results of sending one or the other.

Both were capable in combat, consistently scoring high in Glynda's tests. And he had personally selected both teams' leaders, having high hope for each.

On one hand if team JNPR was sent, such a mission would help cement Mr. Arc's leadership skills and success against such obstacles would improve his self-esteem. But on the other, save for initiation, said leadership skills had yet to be tested in a real-world scenario.

Ms. Rose, however, has already led her team in a major incident in Vale, engaging and defeating one of Atlas's new heavy mechs.

Yes. Team RWBY would be sent. Testing Mr. Arc's leadership abilities can wait for a less risky situation.

Tapping his link again he spoke.

"Glynda, would you please send Ms. Rose up to my office?"

"Of course headmaster, I'll send her up."

* * *

 **Kingdom of Vale**

 **Green Expanse Region**

 **Materkind Forest**

 **In route to TCC secondary support tower #447**

"Hey Blake, want to hear a joke?

"No, no more."

"There were nine copies of Blake on a boat. One jumped out. How many are left?"

"Yang, please, stop."

"None, they were all _copycats_!"

Yang glanced in the rear-view mirror, watching as her triumphant exclamation was met with varied reactions among her team. Blake buried her head in her hands in tortured embarrassment. Ruby rocked back and forth, whimpering, "make it stop," over and over again. And though Weiss remained completely still, Yang could see her eye begin furiously twitching.

' _pah, they just have no appreciation for my genius.'_

Honestly, the way Yang saw it, they should have seen this coming. Exercising her comedy skills is a wonderful use of spare time, and you'd be hard pressed to find more spare time than on a 15-hour Bullhead flight. Looking out the windows can only entertain a girl for so long. They should have brought a board game or something.

Heedless to their torment, she continued, "What do you get when a Mistral cowherder meets an Atlesian doctor?"

Weiss's voice sounded out, "Yang, if you say another word I will go up there and _stab you_."

Yang pouted at the rear view, where she could see Weiss glaring daggers at her. Truly, she was lucky the heiress didn't have an eye-based offensive semblance. She's pretty sure she'd have died multiple times over the last few minutes if she had. Ice queen earns her name yet again. Honestly, if she got any colder she might become _ice_ -olated.

Chuckling at the further proof of her genius, she filed that one away for future use before responding.

"Weiss, I'm the pilot! You can't stab the pilot!"

Amazing, her glare grew even colder.

" _It's on autopilot_!" she all but snarled.

"So it is," Yang readily agreed, "but do you trust the AP to guide us through the next flock of nevermores we run into?"

Weiss turned pleadingly to Ruby, "Ruby, please, it's not murder if the leader orders it."

Ruby stared sorrowfully back at her, "I can't", oh how heartbroken she sounded, "Dad would get angry at me."

Weiss continued pleading, "He would never have to know!"

Ruby continued hopelessly, " _The bullhead has internal cameras_!"

At that the two collapsed tearfully on eachother, wallowing in their misery.

Yang snorted.

' _Drama queens_ '

Blake looked at her overly dramatic teammates for a moment before catching Yang's eye.

"So how much further we got?"

Checking her instruments Yang let out an excited whoop.

"Just ten minutes to go girls! Then we're out of this tin can and kicking-", a glance at Ruby, "butt! We'll be kicking butt!"

Instantly the two girls ceased their bawling- ' _knew it_ ' -and let out happy sighs.

"15 hours", muttered Ruby, "15 horrible hours."

Weiss nodded in agreement, "I'm never getting on another Bullhead again."

Ruby began nodding as well, "Yes, never again."

Blake regarded the two with a bemused expression.

"You both realize there's still the return tr-", only to be interrupted by Ruby's finger on her lips.

"No. Do not take this from us. _DO NOT TAKE IT_!"

Blake just rolled her eyes before lapsing into silence.

Ruby looked around the cabin before nodding to herself.

"Alright team. Since we're so close let's do a mission recap!"

Yang butted in, "What, you _don't_ want to spend the rest of the time listening to my amazing jokes?"

Resolutely ignoring her sister, Ruby continued onwards, "Professor Ozpin has put his faith in us to investigate CCT support tower number 4-, uh…, 474?

"447", Weiss corrected with an unamused expression.

"Right! Number 447! This tower went down last night for a few minutes, and the headmaster wants to check whether it's been tampered with. He said it was probably just some forest critter that got in the wires somehow, _but_ , there's a chance that it could be an elder Grimm!", Ruby's tone got progressively more eager towards the end of that statement.

"I still don't believe that", Yang added from the cockpit, "If it's old enough and smart enough to attack a tower, you'd think it'd do more than simply turn it off for a few minutes."

"It could be trying to draw out a response", Weiss pointed out dryly.

"It could have done that by destroying the tower", Yang argued, "someone gets sent out regardless of whether it was offline just for a few minutes or offline permanently. Both draw out a response, but the option two also screws with nearby towns. No way a Grimm would go with option one."

Blake frowned, "Yang's right. A Grimm turning off the comms for a few minutes then just turning them back on just doesn't make sense."

She grimaced, "Ozpin also warned that it might be a case blackout. As much as I hate to say it, that seems the more likely of the options."

Yang glanced over her shoulder, "Case blackout's bandits, ain't it?"

"The blackout is the time period between 1 AGW and 9 AGW, where bandit tribes began using the newly installed CCT towers as centerpieces of their crimes. The Great War had caused many towns and nomadic tribes to turn bandit to survive, as most of their guards had been drafted into the kingdoms' militaries. Once the Great War ended, the Atlas military would install the CCT towers and their supporting towers under heavy military guard, as the Grimm surge caused by the Great war was still extremely prevalent. Once the towers were installed, however, all four kingdom's militaries began downsizing, with most of their remaining forces being dedicated to containing the Grimm surge. Bandits immediately began taking advantage of the situation, manually disabling CCT support towers. When the local villages would send repair teams they were then captured by the bandits and held for ransom. The villages, without the ability to call for help would be forced to either pay the ransom or risk getting overwhelmed by the Grimm. Many villages try to counter this by sending their repair teams with an armed escort, but that just resulted in the escort being captured as well, further depriving the villages of valuable defenses, putting them at even greater risk. The Blackout finally ended in 9 AGW, as with the Grimm surges finally dying down the Kingdoms' militaries and the newly-created huntsmen organization shifted their focus onto the bandits. Over the course of six months over 300 bandit tribes were either driven off, imprisoned, or outright exterminated. The campaign saw a minor resurgence of Grimm activity, but that was quickly contained before it could get out of hand."

The three other girls stared incredulously at Weiss.

She looked back at them, mildly offended, "What?"

Blake held up her hands in surrender, "Sorry, I just… never took you for a history wiz."

She scowled, "Much the military support for the campaign was provided by Atlas. Pretty sure we spent more time learning about the Blackout in school than we did the Great War. It's a far less shameful part of our history. Anyway, a case blackout refers to a bandit tribe using the same tactics as the Blackout age bandits."

"Well", Yang drawled with a grin, "be elder Grimm or nostalgic bandits, best get ready cause team RWBY is in the - _holy shit_! Girls get up here!"

The three members in the cabin exchanged concerned looks before dashing into the cockpit.

"By the gods…"

"Wha-"

"That's a lota boom."

The clearing they hovered over was _eviscerated_. The ground was charred and burnt; craters edged with superheated glass dotted the landscape. Even the treeline was not spared, filled with ash and blackened trunks. In the center of the clearing stood the support tower, seemingly untouched save for the disconnected interface panel.

Ruby gazed at the devastation before speaking, "Alright, Yang, land in-front of the tower. Blake, did you ever interact with any of these towers back with the White Fang?"

She cringed but nodded, "I did."

"Alright, good. You check it out. See if you can find any sign who messed with it. The rest of us will spread out and search for any clues for what happened here. Keep an eye out for hostiles."

"On it"

The Bullhhead did a once-over the battlefield, searching for signs of life or Grimm. When nothing made itself apparent, it twisted and lowered, landing infront of the tower with a muffled _thump_. The four girls immediately jumped out, weapons primed and at the ready.

The sound of the wind and the gentle crackling of smothered flames greeted them.

Ruby gave a quick nod and the team split up. Blake turned and dashed to the tower, crouching there and beginning to fiddle with the interface. Ruby activated her semblance, blinking up and back in a flurry of rose petals and landing on the top of the tower. She shifted Crescent Rose into sniper configuration and began scanning the surroundings. Yang jogged into the treeline, ducking between charred trunks and clumps of ash, while Weiss calmly walked around the inner clearing.

After a few minutes of tense silence, Ruby called out, "Anyone see anything?"

"I have nothing but ash and glass."

"Ditto. I think we missed the fight Rubes."

Ruby frowned, "I don't see anything either. Blake, any clue on the tower?"

"It was a upload."

"An upload? That's it?"

"Yes, or at least as far as I can tell. No tampering, just one hell of a USB transfer."

"What'd they upload?"

"I… have no idea. We'd have to get some actual technicians in here to find that out."

"Why would they want to-"

"Ruby! Found something!"

Weiss's shout interrupted their conversation, causing the two to frown to each other before jogging (or in Ruby's case, jumping) over.

They quickly met with Weiss, and as Yang joining them a moment later, she gestured to the ground before her, "Body."

The team eyed the corpse, with varying degrees of discomfort. Death was very much a part of the life they had chosen, but that didn't mean they had to like it.

And, to be honest, it was a fairly tame death as far as Grimm went. A quick claw slash across the throat, letting the individual die to blood loss. Not pleasant by any stretch of the imagination, but not nearly as bad as what most Grimm will do given some alone time with a dying human.

"Beowolf. Minor by the shape and size of the claw marks. Must have been busy if it didn't stop to finish him off."

"What's that armor? It looks vaguely Atlesian, but…"

"It's not Atlesian", Weiss verified, as Ruby reached down and drabbed the man's weapon, "The helmet's shaped completely wrong and the armor looks more like plastic than metal."

"Could be experimental", Blake pointed out.

Weiss scoffed, "And just decided test it in the middle of Vale?"

"They sent the Paladin protype."

"Exactly, and it immediately got stolen then went on a rampage through the city. You think they're stupid enough to try it _again_?"

Awkward silence.

Weiss glared at them, "You are all insufferable."

Ruby, still fiddling with the weapon spoke up, "Guys, this weapon is _weird_. It seems to have two different ammo slots, I can't find any dust indicators, and the thing's barrel is larger than anything that could be in the ammo packs."

Yang glanced at it, "Energy weapon maybe?"

"That's my guess, but I can't tell for sure because _it doesn't show the dust type_ " she replied, glaring at the weapon, "Besides, I can recognize Atlesian particle guns, this ain't one."

Yang shrugged, "Shoot it. See what happens."

Weiss and Blake exchanged glances.

"Are we sure that's… wise?"

Yang grinned, "Course I am! I mean just look at this place! I'll eat my boot if it hasn't already been fired."

Weiss deadpanned, "Yes, look at this place. Scorched devastation all around dotted by craters _meters_ wide. It is obviously the safest weapon ever constructed."

Yang just grinned, "That's why we shoot it _away_ from us."

Weiss's eye twitched.

Ruby shrugged, turned, and aimed at a tree stump on the other side of the clearing. She pulled the trigger, and a crimson blaster blot lashed out, impacting the stump and causing it to burst apart in a puff of ash.

Ruby looked down at the gun in her hands in wonder.

"It's a laser rifle", she said in an awed tone.

Yang regarded the crumbled stump with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, at least we know its Atlesian."

Weiss nodded warily, "So it would seem."

Ruby, still marveling at the energy weapon, gave herself a quick shake before focusing on her teammates, "No it isn't."

"What?"

"Its not Atlesian. Can't be."

"What do you mean?"

"I told you, I know Atlesian particle weapons, not enough to construct my own, but enough to recognize one when I see it, and this isn't one. No, if anything, that shot looked more like one from the primary batteries on Atlas's aircruisers. This being Atlesian would mean they've managed to become efficient enough with burn dust to build infantry-scaled _laser rifles_ , a weapons tech so inefficient and power-hungry they need to mount it on capital ships."

Weiss sighed, rubbing her forehead disappointing, "She's right. If Atlesian had managed to advance that technology so far so quickly, they'd be shouting it from the rooftops."

Uncomfortable silence descended on the group.

"So", Yang eventually said, "What now?"

Weiss shrugged, "Mission's complete, I guess. Mysterious group with advanced weapons came here, downloaded a copy of the Net, got into a fight with the Grimm -judging by the lack of Grimm in the area, won said fight-, and left.

Blake glanced around the battlefield, "It seemed to be a pretty big fight too. There might be some more bodies around. Might be smart to grab whatever we can."

Ruby nodded, "Right, so we'll grab some pieces of this poor guy's armor and his gun, and any other samples we find, get some pictures of the area, then head home.

Yang grinned menacingly, "The 15-hour ride home."

The noises she heard her teammates make were without a doubt exclamations of joy.

* * *

 **Center of "Solum" nebula**

" **Remnant" system**

 **Hiding in shadow of "Remnant-2a"**

 **Star Destroyer-** _ **Grey Wolf**_

 **Bridge,**

"The 909th's getting massacred. Latest reports have over 2,000 troops either KIA or MIA. That puts the legion's casualty rate over 70%. The remainder of the legion are scattered across the station and barely holding out."

"And the _Admonitor?"_

Parck ran a hand through his hair, grimacing as his figure flickering on the holotable.

"Still heavily damaged. We've patched our sublight engines enough to give us limited maneuverability, and we managed to get shields up to a paltry 10%, but there are still dozens of holes in our hull and most of our remaining weapons are liable to explode if we try firing them. We'll get blown apart if we tried to close in on the station. And to top it all off I lost almost a third of my Tie complement in the initial reinforce attempt. We _need_ reinforcements."

Thrawn's mouth bent in the slightest of frowns as he looked through the holo-pics Parck had sent as the call began. Images of the droid hordes as they charged towards the camera flashed in-front of his eyes.

Pellaeon too was looking at the pics, his figure on the holotable glaring down at the datapad in his hands.

"I see what you mean. The level of ferocity these droids display is startling. If the legion is not reinforced, or, should that prove unfeasible, pulled out they will be most certainly overwhelmed."

Turning towards Thrawn he continued, "Grand Admiral, the _Chimaera_ remains fully operational. Requesting permission to reinforce the _Admonitor._

Thrawn didn't speak, instead continuing to focus on the datapad before him. Only the slight frown gave any hint of his emotions as the pics shifted before him.

Finally, his eyes narrowed a fraction and he looked up at the Parck.

"The commandos succeeded in their mission. I assume you've studied of the new information we've gained access to?"

The captain appeared startled for a moment before recovering.

"About the planet and its…inhabitants? Briefly sir. I was more focused on the current situation."

"Of course. However, did it shed any light on the droids you now face?"

Parck nodded, "Yes sir. I believe these droids to be creatures of Grimm."

Pellaeon frowned, "Are you sure of this? The Grimm the commandos encountered were, or at least seemed to be, organic in nature. A twisted mockery of organic form, but very much organic."

Parck begin tapping at his datapad, "All of them are. However, when I realized there were no Grimm variants of mechanical nature, I instead searched for Grimm that could affect technology. And very quickly I found this."

One more tap and a figure appeared on the holotable. It was tall, roughly eight feet, though at least 2 of those feet were empty air, as the seemingly hovered in place. Much like the Grimm the commandos encountered it was primarily black, broken only by the stark white bones covering portions of its body, those in turn possessing crimson markings etched into them. Its humanoid frame was offset by its lack of legs, and abnormally long arms which ended in needle-point claws. Its main body appeared to be some sort of shall or cloak, the top of which came up in a hood over the creature's head, shadowing its face leaving only a single molten yellow eye to shine through.

"This… is a Geist. A variant of Grimm capable of possessing inanimate materials. Anything from trees to rocks to metals. And apparently, to ancient Rakatan droids."

The room was silent.

"Well… that's troublesome."

Pellaeon's blunt summarization caused a slight quirking of Thrawn's lips.

"So it is."

He gazed at the Geist for several more moments before shifting towards his officers.

"We still have much to discuss, but for now we will have to continue this conversation at a later date. Captain Pellaeon, the _Chimaera_ is to depart for the Rakatan station at once. Assist the _Admonitor_ in reinforcing the 909th, and establish a beachhead on the station. Priority is on conserving as much of the _Admonitor_ 's remaining forces as possible. Once the beachheads are cemented, don't push forward until you're certain of success."

Pellaeon and Parck nodded, speaking at the same time, "Understood sir."

"Good. Contact me once the beachheads are secured. You are dismissed."

Snapping of a quick salute, Pelleaon's figure faded from the holotable.

Parck regarded Thrawn for a moment before speaking, "If I may sir, what will you be doing?"

Thrawn arched an eyebrow and gesture towards his datapad.

"We now have access to an entire planets worth of information and culture. A culture that seems to have been influenced by the Rakatans at some point in their past."

His lips quirked into a small smile.

"There is much to learn."


	5. Chapter 5

_Time for a new chapter!_

 _This darn site is acting weird. Says I got 20 reviews on this story but only shows 19. Irritating._

* * *

 **Center of "Solum" nebula  
"Remnant" system  
Hiding in shadow of "Remnant-2a"  
Star Destroyer- Grey Wolf  
Captain's Quarters  
**  
Mentally preparing himself for the coming conversation, Sergeant King of Bishop squad stiffly tapped the announcer, the resulting beep informing the man within of his presence. A few moments passed before an acknowledgment was heard and the door slid open. Swiftly entering the room, he took some steps forward before standing at attention, the door silently closing behind him.

Over the course of his career King had seen many an officer's quarters. Back in the early days of the GAR, right as the war began, most officers treated their quarters akin to how a senator treats their residence. A richly decorated and extravagant display intended to showcase their power and prestige. This, as he understood It, was a result of the lack of any major conflicts in the galaxy and the Republic's prior reliance on planetary defense forces. As the war dragged on, those egotistical gloryhounds were weeded out, replaced with more competent and militarily-minded individuals. Such individuals naturally had more spartan quarters, favoring function over form. When the Galactic Empire was created, most of the officer corps were comprised of these individuals, and thus retained the same utilitarian aesthetics. That being said, over the last several years he's noticed a steady return of the pompous extravagance of the old republic. The two varying styles were largely incompatible with eachother, evident by the fairly common clashing of the differing officers.

This was why he found Thrawn's personal quarters to be rather intriguing, as it seemed to strike a middle ground between the two. It was filled with a variety of seemingly random objects; paintings and sculptures being the most obvious, yet he doubted any of which would be worth any significant amount. Apparently they were crucial in Thrawn's operations, but damn if he knew how.

Speaking of Thrawn, the man was seated at his desk, flicking through several datapads scattered before him. When King entered the Chiss glanced at him before returning to the datapads.

"Sergeant King. At ease. I understand you had a tussle with the local wildlife in your last mission. How's the armor?"

King minutely relaxed his posture and nodded, "Just some minor scrapes and dents sir. Was repaired within an hour of mission end."

"Good, good. Your team is ready for another outing then?"

"The Rakatan station sir?"

Thrawn answered with a minor shake of his head, "While your presence would undoubtedly be helpful, the legions can handle the station themselves. No, I have something else in mind."

Tapping his console, a holomap flared into view, a massive mountain dominating the majority of the sight, surrounded by a decently sized city, seemingly built in and round the mountain.

"Do you recognize this?"

King gave a slow nod, "Mountain Glenn. Expansion of the Kingdom of Vale founded twenty-one years ago. Fell to continuous Grimm attacks within five years."

"I'm glad to see you do your research."

"I had a feeling we'd be fighting Grimm again sooner or later. Best way to beat your enemy is to know them, and who knows the Grimm better than those who have spent thousands of years fighting them?"

Thrawn allowed himself a small smile, "My thinking exactly."

Turning towards the map, he gestured at the city's borders.

"Your previous success gave up access to all public knowledge on their net. Naturally, there are areas of the net the public, and therefore we, cannot access. Government networks, corporation dealings, banking and infrastructure, and, of course-"

"-military technology", King finished, "which Mountain Glenn might still have."

"Indeed."

"Why Mountain Glenn? There are plenty of other ruins around. Far more recent ones too."

"Because Mountain Glenn has a multitude of fundamental differences compared to all the other constantly overrun settlements of Remnant. The biggest one being that is was intended to be permanent. Villages are spawned all the time, all over the Kingdoms whenever and wherever they can get away with it."

He leaned forward, his expression hard, "But those villages follow a pattern. They form, they build up, they survive for years, even decades at a time, but eventually, without fail, they either move, or get destroyed. All it takes is one bad day, one tragedy, and the village becomes another ruin."

He leaned back, clasping his hands together, "Mountain Glenn was Vale's attempt to break the pattern. They would settle somewhere, and they would stay there. As of such, they threw every credit they could at it. No expense was spared. In the span of five years they built an entire city, one with the most sophisticated and advanced defenses they could create. Many of which were abandoned once the Grimm finally breached the city."

He gazed at the map, taking in every detail, "So yes, there are plenty of ruins to choose from, and yes, quite a few are far more recent than Mountain Glenn. But none of which is the informational and technological treasure trove that Mountain Glenn is."

"So you want us to go in there and take anything that might have been left behind?"

"That was to be your original goal, yes."

"Original goal? What changed?"

Thrawn regarded him with a bemused expression, "You were not the first wave this time."

"Sir?"

"I sent some probe droids in first. Foremost to make sure you weren't just going to walk into a Grimm nest, and secondly to see if there actually was anything worth taking."

He frowned, "There wasn't. It seems the most state-of-the-art defenses technology could create, unsurprisingly requires near constant maintenance. Maintenance which they hadn't received in almost sixteen years. The probes found little more than rusted hulks."

He stood up and with a gesture shifted the map over to what King recognized as the city of Vale, complete with the massive hovering airships, each 2/3rd the size of a star destroyer.

"Fortunately, the probes found something of even greater value. I assume you know who owns those warships? And why they're currently in Vale?"

King nodded, "The warships are owned by the Kingdom of Atlas, who field the largest and only official military of the Kingdoms, and who are currently overseeing security for a Biannual remembrance festival in Vale."

"The Vytal Festival, yes. And in accordance with their agreement to provide security, they've allocated a fairly significant amount of their forces to do so. Including a large amount of advanced technology, such as battle droids and prototype mech walkers."

He smiled, "Prototype mech walkers that happened to be hijacked and stolen in route to the city by a local terrorist cell, which our probe droids have located in Mountain Glenn."

King's eyes widened as he heard that. Seeing the implications, he chuckled, "We can steal a mech from the terrorists and analyze one of Remnant's most state-of-the-art techs without ever alerting them."

"You think too small sergeant. Our goal is to integrate this world into the Hand, or if need be, the Empire. First contact is crucial. Particularly with a people so defensive and individualistic as this. I plan to announce ourselves to the public during the Vytal Festival, but the chance to make contact more discreetly with the Kingdoms' governments prior to that is one we would be remiss not to take. And what better way to say 'we come in peace' than to completely eliminate a terrorist cell and simultaneously return large amounts of stolen military equipment?"

Thrawn then continued, a slight smirk playing across his lips, "And if some pieces of said stolen military equipment is unaccounted for? Well, the terrorists have possessed that equipment for months now. Any missing pieces were ones they undoubtedly moved to other cells. A shame."

King nodded, expression thoughtful, "Yes sir, quite a shame."

Thrawn looked back down to map, "Now that the explanation is out of the way, your objective is as follows. You are to eliminate all terrorist forces in Mountain Glenn and secure the cache of Atlesian military equipment, priority being the mech walkers. Estimated enemy forces consist of roughly two-hundred lightly trained infantry, three-hundred at the highest, and, should you not secure them in time, the mechs. As of such, make sure you bring plenty of ion grenades and heavy ordnance. You will be supported by two platoons of the 429th and a formation of 4 AT-STs."

He looked at King with a hard expression, "Understand, you will not have access to air support. Much of the enemy base is located underground, and even if it wasn't, Mountain Glenn is too close to Vale. Any supporting craft would be noticed immediately. Likewise, you must complete this mission as quickly as possible. Extended combat will undoubtedly attract the Grimm. Should that happen, you will retreat immediately. If they surround you down there, you will die. Understood?"

King straightened and snapped off a salute, "Yes sir. We'll get it done."

Thrawn nodded, "Good. You are dismissed."

* * *

 **Center of Solum nebula  
Deep Space  
Just outside firing range of Rakatan Security Station  
**  
In the black of space, a single broken star destroyer hovered in place, its hull crumpled and dotted by gaping holes. At a glance one could be convinced the ship was lifeless, drifting and powerless as it was. Yet a closer look would reveal a different truth. The aforementioned hull breaches would sporadically light up in flashes of light, as welding crews patched what they could, and sealed what they couldn't. Every few minutes the shields would temporarily flare into the visible spectrum as engineers shifted their limited power supply between critical systems. The engines themselves would likewise pulse, ensuring the ship maintained a certain distance from their other major woe.

In the distance the Rakatan station hovered menacingly, its fully powered form bristling with weapons, and a far cry from the lifeless husk they originally found.

Interestingly enough, the space between the station and the warship was not completely empty. Circling the station were five Theta-class AT-AT barges. The barges maneuvered around the station, occasionally skimming the edge of its firing range, seemingly probing for weaknesses in its firing arc. The moment one would enter range the station would fire any gun it could. Firing at a small, (relatively) fast craft at the absolute edge of its range unsurprisingly meant that the vast majority of these shots missed. Yet every once and a while a shot would connect, critically straining the dropship's shields and blackening a portion of its hull. At which point the dropship would exit the station's range, wait for its shields to recharge, and then resume the risky game of cat and mouse.

Still, after hours of tricky maneuvers and close calls, nothing seemed to stand out, leaving the conflict at a stalemate.

Yet every stalemate has to end eventually, and in a flash of light the odds of the inevitable fight shifted considerably.

The _Chimaera_ had arrived.

* * *

"Captain Pellaeon, my thanks for your assistance."

Parck's voice transmitted understandably, though heavily distorted by static. Likewise his figure on the holotable was blurred and seemed to flicker at random intervals, thus eliciting a frown from Pellaeon.

"With your arrival, I do believe we now have a decent chance to rescue the 909th."

Still frowning Pellaeon nodded, "I am pleased to provide the necessary assistance. Might I inquire about the state of your communications? They were fine when we last spoke."

It was hard to tell through the distorted image, but Parck seemed to wave the concern away.

"We recently learnt that the damage to our hyperdrive system was more extensive than we thought. The backlash that destroyed it reached all the way into reactor. My engineering team assures me there's no danger of a breach, but we've had to limit our power supply for the time being."

He shrugged.

"I told my team to prioritize shielding. Apparently that's at the expense of communications. Though, if you could send over some teams and supplies of your own it would be extremely helpful."

Relaxing a fraction Pellaeon nodded, "Of course, they're on their way."

Turning towards the map he arched an eyebrow, "I see you're already…", he paused, regarding the icons for the Theta-class AT-AT barges with confusion, "…probing the enemy? I thought you still possessed some Ties. Would they not be better suited to such a role than AT-AT barges?"

Parck nodded, "They undoubtedly would, had I been probing the enemy in the traditional sense. I am not. "

He zoomed in on the station, highlighting its weapons, "Those guns made mincemeat of my small craft on the initial reinforce attempt, and any subsequent attempt will likely face the same fate. There's simply too many guns. However, those weapons are over 30,000 years old and were designed to fight warships of its own era. To say they are outdated is an understatement of extreme proportions."

He gave a small grin.

"I'm not probing its _defensive_ capabilities, but rather its _offensive_ capabilities. Without risking the _Admonitor_ herself, the barges are the most heavily defended ships I have available. By allowing themselves to get hit by stray shots and analyzing the damage inflicted, we've calculated how long it would take for the station's guns to breach a star destroyer's shields.

Pellaeon's eyes progressively got wider as the explanation went on, before grinning at the end, "I see. So what's the conclusion?"

Parck's grin matched his own.

"Two and a half hours, give or take ten minutes. Up to four hours if you divert any excess power. More than enough time to dock and unload reinforcements."

"Perfect, I'll ready my troops. Will the _Admonitor_ attempt docking as well?"

Parck's grin turned into a frown.

"No. My shields just barely crested 15% last hour. They'd be breached long before we'd have offloaded any significant amount of troops."

"That's alright. You've done enough already."

* * *

As the two discussed, the _Chimaera_ moved into position, hovering protectively above its wounded cousin. Once talks concluded it enacted the chosen plan.

The massive engines pulsed then roared, pushing the mighty warship forward. Its shields flared into the visible spectrum as they were powered to their fullest extent, the faint blue barrier hugging the warship's hull. Swiftly passing by the AT-AT barges it entered the station's firing range. Immediately stuck by a wall of laser fire as hundreds of guns hammered into it. Its shields pulsed, but remained steady, and the ship continued onward.

Closer and closer it came, the barrage not easing in the slightest, and indeed only seemed to increase in ferocity. Yet the shield's remained active, as so the ship continued undaunted. A few moments more and it reached the station, settling inbetween two of the major prongs it turned its bulk, preparing to forcefully dock.

Unbeknownst to it however, several levels above where the ship was set to dock a portion of the station's outer hull blackened, turning from gunmetal grey to deep obsidian. A moment more and the patch was crisscrossed with crimson etchings, rippling and warping with the metal it was subsuming. The star destroyer's first warning was when the patch of metal abruptly ripped open, the hole exposing the innards of the station. They barely had time to understand what was happening before the attack began.

Hundreds, thousands of droids spilled into the void, streaming towards the star destroyer. The _Chimaera_ immediately began to back away, its point-defense guns opening up, blasting apart dozens upon dozens of the machines, yet there were just too many too close. Thousands latched onto the hull, all immediately attempting to tear into the hull. When their claws proved incapable of breaking through the meters-thick hull, they began scrambling all over the ship, searching for any potential openings.

Windows, airlocks, and docking bays proved more accessible entry points, allowing the machines to spread throughout the ship. However, the most popular, and most easily abused entry point was unsurprisingly the main hangar bay. Hundreds of the machines managed to streamed in before the panicked hanger crew turned on the bay's particle shields. Yet the machines were as thorough as they were ruthless, quickly finding and destroying the particle shield emitters, opening the way once more.

Within minutes of spilling from the station, there were over 3,000 droids rampaging throughout the ship, slaughtering and massacring all in their way.

The _Chimaera_ turned and blasted away from the station at full blast, not halting until it was completely out of range of the station. Minutes later reinforcements from the _Admonitor_ arrived, quickly entering the ship the same way the droids had, and over the course of the next five hours would help clear out the ship room by room, corridor by corridor.

Two more ship-wide sweeps and 7 hours later the ship was officially declared clear of droid presence.

* * *

"That was disastrous."

Pellaeon was furious.

Boarding operations were well known to the empire. Various rebel groups were always attempting to seize imperial ships. Even in the opposite case, where imperials attempted to board an insurgent ship, many rebels would choose to go out in a blaze of glory, charging into imperial ships and trying to cause as much damage as possible before they were inevitably killed.

So yes, counter-incursions were always considered a threat when boarding hostile facilities, regardless of the situation, and the troops set to board the station were fully prepared to repeal any attempt to do so. In this case, by falling back to prepared kill-zones just past the docking bays. But that relied on the enemy boarding the ship the same way the troopers intended to board the station. Which they didn't.  
Instead, the station had just decided to create a brand new hanger right infront of the Chimaera, allowing a massive droid horde, far larger than was predicted to be on the station at all, to jump through space and board the Chimaera from literally every direction.

"Agreed", Parck replied, "How many did you lose?"

"7,434 KIA. An additional 2,389 in various states of wounded. Almost a third of the Chimaera's complement!"

He sighed, "We're just luck the majority of casualties were support staff and crew. My stormtrooper complement remains relatively whole."

Parck nodded, glancing over the reports.

"We need a new strategy."

Pellaeon leaned forward, clasping his hands together, eyes hard a diamonds.

"Then let's get to it."

* * *

Two hours later, a new plan was set into action.

The _Admonitor_ -peaking at 40% shields- and the _Chimaera_ formed up, bows pointed directly at the station. Advancing together the two ships crossed into range of the station at the same time. Immediately hails of lasers slammed into them, resolutely being absorbed by the stalwart shields. Unlike all previous attempts, this time the destroyers responded with a barrage of their own. However, rather than the expected emerald turbolasers, pale cobalt streaks lashed out.

The ion cannon shots hit the station in bursts of static, electricity arcing over dozens of its laser batteries.

The station had over 200 weapon emplacements, over half of which were focusing their fire on the destroyers, yet moment by moment, shot by shot, one by one, they were slowly being disabling by the star destroyers' ion cannons. In desperation the station began siphoning power from other subsystems. Shields, sensors, life support, anything and everything that could be lowered or turned off was and had its power redirected to the weapons.

And it worked. Slowly, one by one, depowered weapons began reactivating. Within minutes the rate of reactivation was matching the rate of depowering. Furthermore the constant barrage was beginning to wear on the _Admonitor's_ shields, having drained them back down to 10%.

With their gambit seemingly failed, the star destroyers began their withdrawal, the _Chimaera_ placing itself infront of the _Admonitor_ , shielding it from the fire.

Unbeknownst to the station, the _Admonitor_ did not immediately begin its retreat, but rather launched several cargo containers from its hanger bay.

The station, having its view blocked by the _Chimaera_ , did not see this.

The _Admonitor_ then grabbed to containers with its tractor beams, and with carefully calculated movements, flung the containers towards the station on extremely precise paths.

The station, with its sensors lowered as much as it could be, didn't detect this.

The containers, filled with supplies, munitions, and heavy weapons; but no lifeforms, as even low-powered passive sensors could detect those; where all but invisible to the station, and so would continue on their carefully selected paths with no issues.

The station would only learn of them over three hours later, at the exact moment they flew into the station's various hangar bays, directly into the hands of the beleaguered defenders.

* * *

 **Center of Solum nebula  
Deep Space  
Rakatan Security Station  
Hanger E, Point 01, Section 1**

"Here comes another wave!"

The furious yell blasted through his helmet's comms, instantly ripping Bles out of his dozing. Jumping up and frantically looking around him, he spotted his blaster. Grabbing it and already hearing the now intimately familiar whine of blasters, as well as the unfamiliar but entirely welcome thrum of E-webs all over the hanger opening up, he scrambled up the makeshift barricades. Cresting the top, he immediately ducked back down as a slab of metal, roughly the size of his hand, sliced through the air where his head was a mere second ago, spinning off into the distance.

Pausing a moment to calm his racing heart, _'Kriffing things are throwing crap at us now?'_ he glanced at his HUD's internal clock. What he saw caused a snarl to force its way out.

 _'Fifteen minutes! Not even fifteen minutes of sleep and they're already surging again! Kriffing droids!'_

Quickly checking his newly acquired Imperial Heavy Repeater's ammo pack -still good for about another 200 shots yet- he once again crested the top of the barricades. Spotting the nearest clump of droids that had gotten past the kill zones that were the hanger entrances, he quickly aimed and let loose, the rapid spray of metallic slugs perforating the droids, causing them to blow apart in bursts of sparks and black mist.

Above he could hear the whine of their lone Tie fighter take to the air again. Settling above the center of the defensive line it began its now fairly routine job of acting as an incredibly valuable turret, hovering and twisting to and fro, blasting any droid dumb enough to enter its sights.

He grinned. Ever since they received those new supplies this hanger's become an emperor-damned fortress. This wave won't be getting any further than the last did.

 _'Stupid kriffing droids. You'd think they'd realize when a strategy isn't working.'_

"Watch out!"

He turned just in time to see a massive hunk of metal come hurling out of the mist and slam into the barricade, shattering the stack of crates like a house of cards and sending the troopers manning it flying.  
Turning towards where the slab had come from, he saw them. Three hulking monstrosities, each close to two stories tall, and each made up of dozens upon dozens of droids and other scrap metal seemingly mashed together.

He got the distinct feeling the universe was laughing at him.


	6. Chapter 6

_Time for a New chapter!_

 _Again, not much to add in this AN. Midterms have been killing me, so I apologize if there's more grammar errors/mistakes than normal. On the up side, this is where the story is beginning to kick off, with the Imperials and Remnant finally seeing each other in action! About damn time, right?_

 _Reminder-_

 _[Bishop-1] King -Squad lead_

 _[Bishop-2] Code -engineer_

 _[Bishop-3] Dairmund -demolitions_

 _[Bishop-4] Rules -Recon_

* * *

 **Kingdom of Vale**

 **Mountain Glenn**

 **Undercity**

 **Former Transit Hub 002**

Atop the shadowed roof of a partially collapsed building, a lone figure crouched, overlooking the beehive of terrorism below. He scanned the area, HUD zooming in on objects of interest while idly tagging any hostiles he could see.

"Bishop 4 to 1, got eyes on the objectives. Center terminal, being loaded onto a locomotive transport. Counting 50+ insurgents, 16 guards with assault rifles, remainder with assorted small arms."

"4, confirm last, objectives are being loaded onto a transport?"

"Confirmed, five already loaded, four are being so now."

Code interjected, "That's nine, where are the other three?"

"Give me a moment," Rules acknowledged, "moving for a better view."

Standing up from his position he swiftly maneuvered through the surrounding buildings. At two points he encountered wandering insurgents, but this far into their base the terrorists were lax, and he slipped by them with little difficulty. Eventually reaching the roof of a building with a more commanding view, he reassessed the enemy's base.

"Update. I see two of the missing mechs are being used to assist loading cargo, but the thirds a no-show. 1, what's the word?"

King's response was curt, "Give me a moment, contacting command."

Dairmund's amused voice commented, "Think they actually did move the mech to another cell? That'd be some irony right there."

Code snorted, "And only sent the one? Nah, idiots probably lost it."

Rules spoke up, "These caverns _are_ swarming with Grimm. Might've picked a fight they couldn't win."

King finally responded, "They picked a fight they couldn't win all right, but it wasn't against Grimm. Command reports the insurgents clashed with some huntsmen in Vale and lost."

Dairmund chuckled, "Well, that's one less we've got to deal with at least. So what's the plan 1?"

"Depends on how soon these bantha scum are going to move. 4?"

Even though he knew no one could see it, Rules shook his head, "Not any time soon. I'm seeing tons of cargo containers still unloaded."

"Think they'll move before tonight?"

"Doubt it. They'll be lucky to be ready by _tomorrow_ night."

"Good. Then we hit them tonight, when the only ones up are the guards and no one's piloting those mechs. 4, base layout?"

A few clicks sent over some pics, while Rules explained what he was looking at, "Their base is centered around the train, and I'm willing to bet that's where the majority of them sleep. They've got piles of cargo scattered around the clearing surrounding the train. Could be good for concealment, but depending on what's in those crates it's probably a poor idea to use them as cover. Additionally, I can see insurgents in some of the surrounding buildings. Numbers unknown.

King spent a few moments in silence studying the pics before responding, "The cargo is still unloaded but the train looks fine. I don't want them bailing once we attack. 2, think you can get on there and disable it?"

"Unlikely sir. Lot'a eyes on that train, inside and out. I could do it during the attack though."

"Not if we get bogged down before we reach the train. 3, what about the tunnel entrance? Can you set some charges and collapse it once the attack begins?"

"Sure can, but if they find the bombs before then, we'll be compromised."

"Rules, you see any patrols going into the tunnels?"

"Haven't noticed any."

"Good enough. Get on it 3."

"Aye sir."

"4, stay where you are. 3, once you're done with the charges, join him on the top of that building. You'll both provide some confusion once the attack begins."

"Permission to lace a few surprises throughout the area before I settle in?"

King shrugged, "By all means, just don't get caught."

* * *

 **Kingdom of Vale**

 **Mountain Glenn**

 **Uppercity**

 **Former housing complex**

Blake tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable on the crappy little sheet that served as her bed.

It had been a long and hard day, and by all rights she should have been asleep the second her head hit the pillow. Unfortunately, the conversation with her team kept her mind turning. Coupled with the frustration of finding nothing all day resulted with her glaring up at the ceiling for the past 20 minutes.

And, as much as she hated to admit it, she'd gotten used to her comfy bed back at Beacon.

Just as she was debating asking Ruby if they could switch watch she heard it. A quiet rumble. She shifted, grumbling. Probably just some building finally succumbing to years of neglect.

But then, a series of rumbles, continuing for several seconds. She sat up, ears perked. She focused, intent on listening as much as she could.

There. She could barely make it out, the faintest of sounds, but it was there. The _pop, pop, pop_ of small arms, intermixed with louder, but still faint, constant buzz of automatic weapons.

Across the fire she saw that Zwei was awake as well, eyes fixated in the direction of the gunfire.

Professor Oobleck too, though still slumped in the windowsill, was awake, glancing between her and Zwei.

He spoke, a lot quieter than normal, "Miss Belladonna, is ther-"

 _ **BOOM**_

The ground shook, dust raining from the ceiling.

The Professor jumped onto his feet, thermos turning into an odd bat-looking thing in an instance. Yang and Weiss rolled out of bed, the latter scrabbling for her weapon while Yang deployed her own.

"The hell? What's going on!"

Ruby appeared in a whirl of rose petals, already pointing in the direction of the detonation.

"It came from that way!"

Professor Oobleck cut in, "Did you see the detonation?"

She frowned, "No… just a muffled boom."

"Miss Belladonna, can you hear anything that could direct us?"

Blake nodded, "Gunfire. Lots of it."

"Then by all means, lead the way."

* * *

 _Five minutes earlier…_

 **Kingdom of Vale**

 **Mountain Glenn**

 **Undercity**

 **Former Transit Hub 002**

The start of the attack was cautious as it was swift. King and Code advanced ahead of the 72 stormtroopers and 4 AT-STs that comprised the main thrust, eliminating any isolated patrols and half-asleep look-outs in the way. When it was discovered that aura necessitated 2-3, and on rare occasions even 4 shots to neutralize an enemy the commandos switched to strangling their opponents, a tactic which proved far more effective.

Once all the outer guards were eliminated, the all clear signal was sent, and the stormtroopers and AT-STs formed up in front of the entrance to cavernous room that served as the insurgent's base. Peeking around the corner, King smiled. Time to begin.

"Bishop-3, please announce our presence to our hosts."

"With pleasure."

Deep into the room, atop one of the many crumbling buildings Dairmund thumbed his detonator and pressed down on the trigger with a resounding _click_.

In the next seconds over a dozen charges throughout the room, each timed to set off one after the other for maximum confusion, detonated in blasts of rock and fire. Numerous buildings shuttered and collapsed as their major supports and lover levels vanished in the thunderous conflagrations, sending them tumbling to the ground. The vast majority of those buildings were empty, but not all of them. Insurgent patrols and guard posts suddenly found the ground falling out beneath them, their cries of shocked panic cutting out as swiftly as they started up. The collapsed buildings scattered concrete, steel, and debris all over the massive cavern, turning the formerly wide streets and orderly layout into a maze of shattered rock and crumbling structures.

Even as detonations rung out the insurgents were already reacting, panicked figures scrambling for any weapon they could find, soon reinforced by storms of their fellows streaming out from the train and what few buildings still remained.

It was then the last charges were detonated. The transit tunnel gateway, one that in another lifetime the train would travel through and cause one of the most shocking breaches in Vale's history, had its primary supports instantly shattered by a few carefully-placed grenades. The secondary supports managed to hold the massive weight of the entrance up for a few more precious seconds before they too, inevitably gave away. In a single, thunderous crash over a hundred tons of solid rock fell to the ground, sealing the gateway and blocking the train's only path of escape.

With the enemy trapped and now thoroughly confused the assault began in full. Sormtroopers flooded into the cavern, the crimson bolts that ripped through a dozen insurgents announcing their presence. The insurgents, still reeling from half their base being blown to bits, frantically scrambled into defensive positions and began returning fire. Once passed the entrance, the stormtroopers likewise settled among the rubble, turning the engagement into a proper firefight. They were soon joined by the 4 AT-STs, the thrum of their heavy lasers overpowering the whine of blaster fire and gunshots.

"3, 4, how the view from up there?"

From his perch atop one of the few remaining buildings, Rules idly thumbed his comms as he pinged a particularly stubborn group of insurgents, watching as the AT-STs dutifully perforated the area with their heavy blasters.

To his right he could see Dairmund fire off another innendary from his launcher, seeing it detonate in the midst of a clump of insurgents and setting the screaming figures ablaze.

"Pretty colors 1, pretty colors."

"Glad to hear it. Just make sure no one jumps in one of those mechs. I think I see a few making their way towards them."

"Already ahead of you sir", Dairmund interjected, "I hit the mechs with a couple ion grenades when we started. Insurgents can't do jack with them."

Code's voice interrupted the conversation, "Two enemy officers exiting the train. Engaging."

Two loud _cracks_ sounded out.

" _Damn_ , they've got tough auras. Kriffing soul magic _bullshit_."

"Where are they?"

"Pinging now."

Switching to sniper configuration Rules turned toward the ping and zoomed in. There they were, hunkered down behind a pile of rubble. One was a mountain of a man, his status as a higher up established by the Grimm mask he wore, much more elaborate than the rack-and-file's version, as well as the massive chainsaw he was holding with one hand.

' _A kriffing Chainsaw? Really?_ '

The other had no mask oddly enough, revealing a very irritated looking face, and instead opting for a white suit-coat and a bowler hat. He looked to be furiously yelling at the chainsaw guy and gesturing wildly with his...cane? Why was he holding a cane? Was that his weapon?

' _Whatever._ '

Deciding to focus on who was likely the bigger threat he shifted his aim and fired on the chainsaw-wielder. The beam hit the man directly in the face, knocking him off his feet. Despite the hit, Rules took Code's observation to heart and fired again as soon as the man hit the ground. Chainsaw guy wasn't an idiot though, and even as he fell he brought his weapon up in front of him. The shot bounced off the blade, sparing him a third hit. Not wasting a moment of the reprieve he'd created he rolled to the side, ducking behind more cover.

Behind his visor Rules frowned as he glared at the cover the man had hidden then he saw exactly what 'cover' the man was using and his frown threatened to turn into a grin.

"Bye, bye", he murmured, and fired.

The beam struck the crate of dust instantly, engulfing the surrounding meters in an explosion of elements. When the smoke cleared the chainsaw-wielder was little more than a charred corpse impaled on a spike of ice.

"Enemy officer down. Switching targets."

Shifting the scope he scanned the immediate area, but couldn't see the distinctive bowler hat anywhere. Lowering his rifle he glared at the chaotic battlefield below, the crumbling rubble and deafening firefight offering plenty of places to hide.

' _Kriff, where'd he go?'_

"Dairmund, you see 'em?"

Darimund snorted, half-heartedly lobbing a grenade at another clump of insurgents.

"Fucker jumped behind some rocks and scampered off when you started popping his buddy."

"Great."

Switching to squad comms he spoke up, "1, 2, we lost the other officer. Anyone got eyes on?"

"Negative, bit busy right now."

"I don't see him either. He'll pop his head out eventually, just be ready to take him out when he does."

As if summoned by the words, he glanced to the side just in time to see the man jump out from behind a rock into the wide open, aiming his cane in front of him.

Rules twisted, bringing his rifle into focus only for his eyes to widen in shock.

He barely had time to shout a warning to Dairmund before the building shook, purple/red blots slamming into its lower levels and detonating in bright explosion.

He felt the moment the building lost all support, the shaking reaching a crescendo before it began to slide forward.

He found the time to grimace, _'this is going to hurt.'_

King watched as the building holding his squadmates tumbled down, shattering on the cavern floor in a cloud of crumbled concrete and dust.

"Rules, Dairmund! You there?"

Static was his only answer. A glance at his HUD confirmed they were still alive, though hurt, their icons flashing yellow.

He peeked over the rock he was crouched behind, firing a quick burst towards the insurgents between him and his downed squadmates, before ducking back down as bullets pinged off his shields.

"2, I'm pinned, can you reach them?"

"Aye, but they might be buried."

"All the more reason to get to them fast. Grab a squad and secure that section."

"What will you be doing?"

 _ **Boom**_

He turned to see one of the AT-STs topple backwards, its upper half a flaming wreck. In the distance he could see that damned officer duck back behind cover as the other AT-STs furiously attempted to retaliate.

"I'm going to go kill that kriffing officer."

Checking his HUD to see which stormtrooper squads were the least engaged he switched over to their comm channel and spoke up, "Squads Trill and Usk, you're on me. Acknowledge?"

"Trill acknowledges, coming to you sir."

Silence. King frowned.

"Usk, acknowledge!"

No response. King's fists clenched.

"...Usk, acknowledge! Are you there?"

He turned as he spotted Trill advancing up to him, darting between cover and loosing suppressive fire as they moved. As he watched as one trooper peeked over to provide some covering fire, only to have a bullet punch through his eye piece and right into his brain. The trooper slumped backwards, unmoving. At that point another trooper lunged next to King, landing heavily as bullets pinged off the rocks above him. The commando could see several indents in the trooper's armor where he'd been hit. Deciding to take the hint, he stood up and unleash a volley of shots, almost all of which hit an insurgent, dropping them and causing the rest to duck under cover. He was unsurprised, but still mildly disappointed when saw some of the ones he had shot get back up.

' _soul magic bullshit indeed'_

Still, his attacks intended purpose was a success, as the rest of Trill made it to his position with no further casualties. Once arrived they swiftly dug in, immediately opening on offending opposition, decimating them. Glancing towards Trill's squad leader he continued lay down fire as he asked, "Where the hell's Usk?"

"Unknown. They last reported - _aggghhhh_ "

He turned around to see a needle-point blade withdrawn from Trill's leader, revealing a petit child holding the bloodied blade. The rest of the squad seemed just as shocked as he was at the little girl who had seemingly appeared in their midst.

The girl smiled, eyes flashing colors before her blade whipped around, instantly slicing the throat of the trooper behind her. Another flash, and another trooper had the blade sticking through his head.

He and the remaining troopers reacted all at once, everyone firing at the girl at once. A dozen blots hit only for her to shatter like glass.

To the right a trooper screamed, the needle-blade seeming to materialize in his leg, the girl next to him. The squad fired again, anger starting to overcome shock. Almost languidly the girl twirled behind the man she had just crippled, using him as cover. At least twenty bolts slammed into the poor man, turning his front into a charred mess. Idly she kicked the thoroughly dead body onto several more troopers, causing them to go down in a heap. At this point only King and two more troopers were still standing, and all fired the second she discarded her cover. Planting the tip of her blade into the ground she jumped up, easily evading all their shots. An errant slash on the way down killed one, while a kick to the head knocked the last unconscious. Once she was on the ground one of King's shots caught her in the back, but much like last time she just shattered like glass.

Silence. King scanned the area, seeing no sign of her. Cursing, he glanced over at the two stormtroopers who had been knocked over by her "cover", who he saw they were just now getting up.

"You men alright?"

"Yeah, what the kriff was-"

His voice was abruptly replaced by the sound of gurgling.

Finger already pulling the trigger, yet already knowing it was too late, King to turn back to them.

She was standing in between the two troopers, her blade piercing right through the right one's throat. In a single motion she slide the blade out, blocked his shot, and implanted it in his eye of the last one. As the two bodies slumped to the floor her gaze shifted to King, fixing him with a wide smile. He fired again, only for her blade to come up and block each and every one of them with ease, the smile never fading.

Her eyes flashed, and King knew he only had a split-second to act. He dropped his rifle and reach down for the pack of cylindrical objects on his belt. His fingers clasping around one right as his shields popped and his chest erupted in agony. Already feeling his body going numb as he gazed at the blood-coated blade sticking through his chest, he collapsed to his knees. Turning his gaze upwards at the still smiling girl, he spoke,

"Block this, freak."

The girl never made a sound, but as he pulled the thermal detonator from his belt and activated it with the last of his strength, he contented himself with the sight of her pink eyes flashing to shocked white.

* * *

Team RWBY+O raced through the underground caves, the sound of gunfire and energy weapons long having become audible to the humans of the group. More worrisome was the fact that they had already encountered and had to dispatch several groups of Grimm headed the same way.

Turning the corner they finally entered the massive cavern, pausing at the sight of the chaotic warzone within.

Well, we're here," Yang observed, almost having to shout over the noise of screams and gunfire, "Now what?"

"We finish it," Ruby declared, "Don't know who the armored guys are, but if they're fighting the White Fang that means we're allies!"

"I concur," Oobleck said, "But we must do so quickly. The Grimm will be here in force soon."

"I can hear Torchwick's weapon down there," Blake prompted.

"Are positive that it's him?"

Blake regarded the Professor with a blank stare.

"He's shot at me with it before. Yes I'm positive."

"Melodic Cudgel uses unstable dust projectiles as its primary ammunition, which produces a distinctive whistling sound when fired," Ruby added with glee, "It's like… _really_ awesome! I tried to add something similar to Cesenent Ros-"

Oobleck spoke over her, "Good! Then this will be significantly easier. Our mysterious friends seem to have dealt with the majority of the Fang's rank-and-file, and the remainder must know that the Grimm will be flooding in here soon. The loss of their leader will likely shatter them!"

"Speaking of mysterious friends, Ruby, do you see their weapons?" Weiss interjected.

Ruby looked towards Weiss, her pout from Oobleck's interruption switching back to a grin as quickly as it had appeared, "Yep! Same ones we found in Materkind!"

"Armor matches too," Blake noted.

"Your mission the support tower?"

The girls nodded.

"Then we'll see if we can convince them to stick around after the fight. General Ironwood seemed very interested in the tech they're using."

He turned around to regard the battlezone.

"But that's a concern for later! For now we have a job to do! We will go down there and-" he paused as roar in the caverns behind them sounded out, "On second thought, do you girls think you can handle Torchwick yourselves?"

Yang rolled her eyes, "Uhhh, hell yea. -much-eyeliner ran out on us last time we tangoed. And that was when he had a giant battle-mech!"

"Do not be overconfident Miss Xiao Long. Arrogance is often a fatal flaw in our line of work."

With all due respect sir," Weiss began curtly, "As much as it physically pains me to say it, Yang is right. He was unable to defeat us even with the rather large advantage of a state-of-the-art Atlesian mech, and indeed ran the moment we destroyed said mech. I severely doubt he can defeat all four of us at once."

Blake looked up at him, "What will you be doing?"

Another roar sounded out from the caverns behind them, prompting a sigh from Oobleck.

"I will remain here, at the entrance, and offer ranged support for our armored friends below. And once the Grimm arrive, I will contain them as much as possible until the battle is concluded, at which point we will likely have to fight our way out."

He looked them all in the eye, "Eliminate any Fang in the way, but Torchwick is your top priority. This entrance is the largest into this cavern, and therefore where most of the Grimm will approach from. But it is not the only entrance, and so the longer you take to apprehend Torchwick, the more Grimm will inevitably find a way in."

The girls glanced between eachother.

"We got it Professor."

"Wonderful! Then you best be on your way. Go on!"

Ruby looked down at Zwei, then back at Oobleck. Shrugging, she ordered, "Zwei, stay!"

"Arf!"

The girls jogged to the edge of the platform they were on, overlooking the mess of a battlefield below.

"That's going to be tricky to get through," Blake remarked.

"No it won't!" Ruby cheerfully assured, "Weiss! Cannon!"

The heiress in question arched an eyebrow, "And what about you?"

Ruby just rolled her eyes, "I'll just use my semblance, _duh_."

"Very well, just try not to be late."

Ruby just smirked, giving Weiss the excuse to eyeroll.

With a flick of her hand she formed a gravity glyph, enlarging it and tilting into an angle. Turning to Yang and Blake she gestured at the glyph.

"All aboard."

"Ahh hell yea," Yang said, "This is the fun part."

"Speak for yourself," Blake grumbled.

With a quick step Weiss joined them. Another flick of her wrist and the glyph was further infused with burn dust.

Turning to Ruby she spoke, "Ready when you are."

Ruby grinned, and then began jogging in a small circle. Slowly she became faster and faster until she instinctively activated her semblance, moving so fast her circle looked like a donut from atop. After a few more seconds of building up speed she deemed herself herself sufficiently fast enough and broke the circle, slamming into the crimson/black glyph with the seed of a bullet and the momentum of a small tornado. The glyph detonated with the force of a cannon, launching the three figures high into the air.

Pockets of fighting across the room slowed and halted as the two sides became aware of the unexpected arrivals, watching as they soared over the Imperial lines, right into the middle of the remaining White Fang forces.

Said members of the White Fang were just beginning to wonder whether they should have moved rather than gawked when the girls landed among them.

Yang hit them first, the blow from the glyph not enough to fully activate her semblance, but enough to give her a boost, slammed into a group of Fang troops like a miniature, flaming comet, sending them flying.

Weiss was next, rapier piercing into the concrete below her. A moment, then solid spikes of ice shot outwards, slamming into the half-dozen Fang unlucky enough to be near her. A glance over her victims reveal that some of them apparently had low auras, as the spikes gored them. Her eye twitched at the sight, but she pressed onwards, dashing towards where she had already seen Torchwick.

Blake was last, having hooked her blade into the ceiling and swinging with her ribbon for some extra airtime, and unhooked once she spotted Torchwick, falling right towards him.

The master criminal was not looking his best, suit ruffled and scuffed, hat and shoulders coated with dust, and she could see a few areas blackened where he had apparently been hit or grazed by those energy projectiles. It might have something to do with the two weird-looking walkers blasting the hell out of the rock he was currently hiding behind. A quick look at a pair of flaming wrecks of the same type of walker quickly explained why they were so intent on him rather than the myriad of other targets in the area.

She could understand their desire to kill Torchwick, but as she fell towards the criminal she hoped they would cease firing so they wouldn't kill her as well. Being blasted to bits by the people she was trying to help would be a rather inglourious ending. And even if she survived a direct hit, Yang would never let her hear the end of it.

Fortunately, they seem to have seen her and thankfully stopped firing, shifting their focus to other White Fang entrenchments. The sudden absence of exploding rock around him prompted Torchwick to peek over the edge of his cover, just in time to see Blake's boot as it connected with his head, slamming it into the ground. She took a few moments to shoot him in the face with her pistol before a frantic swing of his cane caused her to jump off him.

Rolling to his feet he barely had enough time to open his mouth, undoubtedly to sprout some witty greeting, before Weiss flashed in front of him, blade already lunging. He brought his cane up just in time to defect the blow, and the two engaged in a furious clashing of blade and cane, Weiss's elegant thrusts and parries countered by Torchwicks unorthodox blows and underhanded style. The two were even until Blake reentered the fight, her lighting fast slashes and clone usage turning the tide.

Panicked, fighting foes that equaled him in speed, and losing steam from the hard fight before, Torchwick disengaged the only way he could. Planting the tip of his cane before him, he detonated a blast in the midst of the three, sending them flying.

Being the one to initiate the blow, Torchwick was obviously the one most prepared for it, and was therefore the first one to recover. He rolled to his feet, already aiming with his cane, only to receive a golden fist to the face. He stumbled back, allowing Yang to capitalize on her initial strike, unleashing a series of heavy blows to his body, finishing with a brutal uppercut.

He flew a foot or two into the air, before landing painfully against a rock.

"God damn," he quipped, clutching his bruised ribs, "They sent discount power rangers again. We're only missing Little Red!"

He groaned, leaning on his cane as much as the rock.

"Seriously, the store, the docks, the rally, then here? It's always you girls. Did I kill your team dog or something?"

"I wish," Blake muttered under her breath.

Yang grinned, "Nah, we're just persistent like that. Plus, you shot at my sister. Several times. Can't let that slide man."

"Yea, and if I'd known it'd get her into Beacon I wouldn't have done it," Torchwick snarked, "Bloody one-in-a-million favoritistic headmaster."

Oh I feel so sorry for you, you poor oppressed criminal," Weiss said with a flat glare, "Now, are you going to surrender? Or do we need to freeze you into a block of ice and cart you out?"

He gave a defeated chuckle, "Ice Queen, if you think I'm going to surrender you don't know a damn thing about me."

Weiss's eyes narrowed at the name, "And how, pray tell, are you going to get out of this?"

He stood up with a pained grunt, causing his three opponents to tense.

"Easily."

Still leaning against the rock, pointed his cane off to the right, towards the train.

"I'll admit, it's a minor miracle that nothing's banged that train too hard during this little scuffle, but I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, even if it kills the horse."

"The hell are you talking about," Yang said, eyes narrowed.

"Inside that train, miss blondie, are a bunch of giant fuck-off bombs. One in each carriage."

"How powerful?" Weiss demanded.

"Powerful enough that one going off will cause a chain reaction with every other bomb on board, along with every piece of Dust in this cavern."

"You're bluffing."

"Lady, do I look like I'm in a position to bluff?"

"No, you look like you're in a position to be desperate."

Torchwick considered that for a moment before shrugging.

"Fair enough. But is that really a bet you want to take? I shoot at that train, and there's no going back."

"You would kill everyone here?" Blake demanded, looking truly disgusted, "Just to avoid prison?"

"Oh it won't kill everybody here. A good chunk of everyone here, but not absolutely everyone. Explosion will be big, but not as big as this whole cavern. No. But what it _will_ do is open up a whole bunch of holes into the caves below and around us, which I, and you if you've done your research, know for a fact are just _swarming_ with Grimm."

He smirked, "I figure everyone, including you, are going to be far too busy defending themselves to stop me from making my exit."

"You are a truly horrible human being," Weiss declared, fingers clenching Myrtenaster hard enough that a non-aura reinforced piece of metal would have bent.

Torchwick grinned, "Hon, I'm the most wanted man in Vale. If me not being a nice guy is news to you haven't been paying attention. Now, what's it going to be ladies? Let me go? Or drown in Grimm?"

The three girls glanced at each other, uncertain what to do.

"Well," Torchwick demanded, the crosshairs on his cane flipping up, "I'm not wai-"

 _ **Crack**_

His cane was suddenly blown out of his hands, spinning off behind him. The girls didn't hesitate, acting immediately. Blake's sword flew forward, rapping around the airborne cane and swiftly pulling it into her hands. Weiss waved her blade, and a wall of ice rose between Torchwick and the train. Yang launched forward, slamming the cursing criminal against the rocks, hands forming an ironclad grip around his arms. She clenched her fists, and he screamed as his arua broke and the bones under her fingers were shattered.

Torchwicks cursing slowed, eventually stopping in favor of clenched teeth and closed eyes, keeping his arms as still as possible. Finally getting the pain under control, he took a few deep breaths before opening his eyes, being greeted by furious crimson ones glaring deep into his own.

" _That_ _was a_ _mistake_ ," Yang growled.

Looking over her shoulder, he could see the other two also glaring at him, equally furious. And there, off in the distance atop a pile of rubble he saw Little Red, the smoking rifle at her hip revealing what had happened to his cane.

And as a final cherry on top, while he still could hear the howls of Grimm trying to enter the cavern, the fighting in the rest of the cavern seemed to be dying down, and could even see some white-armored figures moving towards him.

' _God damn it'_

Turning back towards the crimson eyes he offered a tight smile.

"I …ah, surrender?


End file.
